


stole a pizza my heart

by allinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bad Puns, Cute Flirty Boys, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Pineapples, Pizzeria! AU, Silly Misunderstandings, Some Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 20:00:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11813160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allinson/pseuds/allinson
Summary: A Pizza My Heart.Louis stopped in his tracks at the ridiculous pun, which was also this strange pizzeria’s name. He wasn’t sure what to make of everything. Obviously it wasn’t a typical pizza place--not with all of the fruit-like artwork and oddly-shaped fairy lights strewn throughout the restaurant interior.And, oh God. Were those fairy lights shaped like pineapples? If there was one thing Louis was positive about, it was that pineapples obviously did not belong on pizza. Pineapple pizza was a sin. An absolute disgrace to pizza. A travesty to the culinary community.~~Louis is a self-proclaimed hater of pineapple pizza. Harry proudly owns a pineapple pizzeria. It’s an unlikely pairing, but these differences are soon cast aside to pursue a common interest--their attraction to one another.





	stole a pizza my heart

Cooking was harder than it looked. Much harder. In spite of his pride, Louis was well-aware that his culinary skills were just a _bit_ lacking. Though he frequently tried to redeem himself, his two flatmates, Liam and Niall, had faced their fair share of fire alarms, smoky kitchens, and burnt food. His latest experiment had resulted in an extremely inedible batch of cookies as well as an impromptu visit by the local fire department. Fearful of yet another complaint by the neighbors, Liam had made the executive decision to ban Louis from further cooking adventures.

Although Louis had fiercely protested this ruling, Liam was impervious to every effort. He insisted that Louis in the kitchen was a potent threat to the safety of the flat and such _horrific_ cooking had to be discontinued.    

With his kitchen privileges revoked, Louis had been essentially confined to a nutritious diet of take-away and leftovers. However, he had no real complaints with this system. Take-away was efficient--though slightly expensive-- and far superior to his kitchen concoctions. The variety of nearby restaurants was immense; he was thoroughly pleased by these options on most days.  

Well, except for today.

Once again, NIall had devoured Louis’ leftover pad thai, and now, Louis had an overwhelming craving for Italian food, namely pizza. To his dismay, there was not a trace of pizza to be found in the refrigerator or any of the cabinets. Adding to his foul mood, there were no acceptable pizzerias near their flat; in fact, Louis’ personal favorite had closed less than a month ago. 

Planning to exact revenge for his noodles, he hoped Niall would be able to help resolve his dire situation.  

“Nialler,” he yelled. “Are there any proper pizza places around here? I just want a real pizza; everything I’ve tried in this area has been utterly terrible.”

“Umm… Wait! Isn’t there a new place right around the corner?” Niall replied.

“The one that bought out my favorite pizzeria? I flat out refuse to go there, mate. I will not support a restaurant that ruined the best pizza spot in our entire city.”

“Would you just stop with the drama? Louis, do you want the bloody pizza or not?”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll get the bloody pizza!” Louis retorted as he reluctantly pulled himself away from the sofa. After grabbing his wallet and his beanie, which would hopefully tame his growing fringe, he retreated out the door of the flat without sparing Niall another glance.

 

~~

 

Louis found the despicable pizzeria with relative ease; it was quite difficult to ignore the vibrant storefront. Unlike the other establishments scattered along the street, this restaurant was marked by an outlandish yellow sign complete with several pizza-related puns and tropical decorations.

_A Pizza My Heart._  

Louis stopped in his tracks at the ridiculous pun, which was also this strange pizzeria’s name. He wasn’t sure what to make of everything. Obviously it wasn’t a typical pizza place--not with all of the fruit-like artwork and oddly-shaped fairy lights strewn throughout the restaurant interior.

 And, _oh God_ . Were those fairy lights shaped like _pineapples_ ? If there was one thing Louis was positive about, it was that pineapples _obviously did not_ belong on pizza. Pineapple pizza was a _sin_. An absolute disgrace to pizza. A travesty to the culinary community. 

“Just go inside and check it out,” he scolded himself. “And anyways, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

As he entered the restaurant, a small bell--coincidentally also shaped like a pineapple--tinkled cheerfully overhead. Unlike the previous pizzeria that had resided in this location, _A Pizza My Heart_ was illuminated by natural light gently filtering through the various skylights and windows. Meanwhile, hanging succulents and other greenery accentuated the vaulted ceilings. He was pleasantly surprised by the overall appeal of the interior design until he noticed the recurring theme of _pineapples_.

If he thought the exterior was eccentric, than the restaurant interior absolutely took it to the next level. Every surface, including the floor, made a vague--or obvious, in some cases-- reference to the aforementioned tropical fruit. The dedication to pineapples, pizza, and especially, pineapples _on_ pizza, was astounding. The walls were painted a pale yellow, and the one located directly behind the counter housed a particularly impressive mural, which was once again dedicated to the dreaded _pineapple_ . There was just _so_ much pineapple. It was _bloody_ everywhere. 

Louis didn’t have a vengence against pineapples in particular. He just refused to allow such an abomination of a topping to ruin the wonders of pizza.

“Hey, mate! What are you glaring at?”

Louis jerked his attention away from the entrancing, yet horrific decor and, for the first time, noticed the figure standing behind the counter. The man, who seemed to be a real-life Adonis, was tall and lean with broad shoulders and a narrow waist accentuated by a yellow apron. He had a bright smile surrounded by full, pink lips, and _fucking hell_ , he had dimples. Dark brown curls cascaded down the sides of his face and perfectly framed his jawline.  

Noticing Louis’ unwavering stare, the beautiful stranger opened his mouth to yell at him once again. “What exactly are you looking at? Oh, do you like my pineapples?”

“Pineapples?” questioned Louis.

“Yep!” answered Hot Pineapples--the handsome stranger’s name in Louis’ mind. “Pineapples are our specialty here at _A Pizza My Heart_. We dedicate our time to guaranteeing proper recognition for this superior pizza topping.”

Louis stared the man in astonishment; Hot Pineapples sincerely believed that a fruit could be a suitable topping for pizza. This was the most stunning man Louis had seen in weeks--perhaps months--and he just had to disagree with the number one rule of proper pizza consumption.

“You have got to be kidding me _,_ ” he groaned under his breath. Despite his overwhelming disapproval for Hot Pineapples’ pizza opinions, he began to reluctantly trudge over to the ordering counter. His presence had already attracted the attention of a couple other restaurant patrons, so it was definitely too late to make a stealthy retreat. Maybe--if Louis was lucky enough--there would be some options sans the horrible pineapples.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Umm… I must have forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Harry Styles,” offered the attractive stranger leaning against the counter. “Welcome to _A Pizza My Heart_ where every customer is one fine-apple! _”_ Up close, Harry was jaw-droppingly _gorgeous_. His eyes were a captivating emerald green; under the natural light, they sparkled brightly as he smiled. Meanwhile, his arms were lined with a variety of tattoos that contrasted perfectly with his light skin. In comparison to Louis, he was a couple of inches taller with seemingly endless legs. These glorious legs were partially due to a pair of well-loved chelsea boots, which poked around the bottom corner of the counter.

And, well, Louis was most definitely not attracted to Harry--not the slightest bit. _Not at all_.

He then realized that he had been blatantly staring at Harry for quite a while; hopefully, the other man had failed to notice. In hopes of regaining his dignity--and stopping the traitorous blush rising on his cheeks--he tried to subtly collect himself. He just prayed that his voice wouldn’t betray him. He had met this man less than five minutes ago, and, _for goodness’ sake_ he hoped that his budding crush wasn’t detectable. It wasn’t his fault that Harry was so damn fit.

“Louis Tomlinson,” he offered as he extended a hand to Harry. _Shit_ , this was a terrible idea; there was no way that Harry would be able to ignore his sweaty hands. But, perhaps, the universe was finally being cooperative, for Harry raised an eyebrow at Louis’ damp palms yet refrained from commenting.   

“Umm… Is this your first visit to _A Pizza My Heart_? I feel like I would have remembered someone--uh--yeah,” stumbled Harry. “What I mean is… I’m the--Umm--owner and I’ve never seen you around before?” After bumbling his way through the statement, Harry hesitantly looked up at Louis and smiled, flashing a set of perfectly straight teeth to compliment the prominent dimples.  

Louis’ heart began to beat erratically: Harry--perfect, gorgeous Harry--just basically admitted that he would’ve remembered seeing Louis before. If Louis wasn’t blushing before, now he looked a bit like the human representation of a tomato.  He internally cursed his treacherous complexion and attempted to focus on the conversation at hand.

“Curly, are you sure you’re the owner? You don’t sound very sure to me,” he casually bantered. Banter was Louis’ speciality; he could handle this, or so he hoped. He just needed to compose himself until he could find the opportunity to escape back to the safety of his flat. 

_Wait a second_ , if Harry was the owner, then that meant he was _seriously_ dedicated to pineapples on pizza. Pizza! The whole reason that he even came to _A Pizza My Heart_ in the first place. He had gotten so distracted by Harry and the _horrid_ pineapples that he had entirely forgotten about his quest for pizza.

 “Heeey! And, yes, I am the owner. I promise,” Harry asserted, breaking Louis out of his thoughts about pizza. “And _A Pizza My Heart_ is basically my baby. Along with my three closest mates Ed, Steve, and Fionn, I designed this place to pay homage to the important of pineapple on pizza! It’s such an underappreciated topping; the pineapple brings the slightest hint of sweetness which perfectly compliments the natural flavors of pizza. Oh, I’m so sorry. Erm--you probably aren’t interested in listening to me ramble on about all this. I know I’m not that exciting; I’ll just let you order your pizza and--Umm--be on your way, I guess,” Harry’s vibrant smile faded slightly as he paused his passionate monologue. He glanced at Louis sheepishly before turning his gaze to the peculiar pineapple patterns on the tiled floors.

 And, _no_ , _just no_ , Louis couldn’t allow this to happen. The sheer enthusiasm in Harry’s voice as he spoke about his love for pineapples on pizza was absolutely entrancing. Harry was not allowed to feel even the slightest bit ashamed over his passions--even if Louis completely disagreed with his stance on pineapple pizza.

 “Mate, don’t worry about it. I honestly enjoyed hearing about your opinions of pineapple pizza; it’s not everyday you get to hear someone scream their devotion to a pizza topping. But I would be definitely interested in ordering a pizza,” Louis explained, as he tugged his beanie down further over his messy fringe. He vehemently cursed his past self for choosing such a casual outfit. How was he supposed to make a positive impression upon Harry in a well-worn pair of joggers and a hoodie?

 “Really? You actually enjoyed my pineapple speech? Wait, do you like pineapple on pizza? What am I saying? Of course you do! I mean, _A Pizza My Heart_ is dedicated to serving pineapple pizza,” Harry exclaimed with a hopeful smile.

 Louis was extremely flabbergasted. How on Earth did this conversation turn to _his_ pizza preferences? Also, how did he chance upon the one pizzeria solely dedicated to pineapple on pizza--his least favorite topping of all time?

 And, most importantly, how was he supposed to gently reveal his true feelings about pineapple pizza to Harry? The other man looked properly enthused over the possibility that Louis might share his love for pineapple on pizza. And Louis _really, really_ did not want to be the one to crush his optimism. Maybe he could just evade the question? It wasn’t _technically_ lying if he never explicitly stated his opinion.

 “Pineapple is wonderful,” Louis declared. And technically, this was the truth; he did enjoy a bit of pineapple occasionally, just never on a pizza. Absolutely _never_ on a pizza.

 “I absolutely agree! Pineapple is only the greatest pizza topping ever. Would you like me to recommend you a pineapple pizza?” Harry eagerly prompted.

 Louis was screwed. He had tried to avoid outright lying to Harry, but now, he was essentially lying by means of omission. There were two possible options: he could either tell the truth and possibly lose his promising friendship with Harry, or he could somehow continue to pretend that he preferred pineapple on his pizza.

He couldn’t help it; Harry was right fit and, well, lying about his pizza topping preferences wasn’t the _worst_ thing that he’d ever done.

“Alright, then. Harry, I’m ready to try the best pineapple pizza you’ve got.”

“Prepare to be wowed. Up next, my very own signature creation--the Pineapple Supreme!” announced Harry with a flourish of his _massive_ hands. Louis had noticed Harry’s large hands during their brief and mildly awkward handshake, but now, the man in question was holding several culinary tools--that Louis was unsure of the technical names for--in a single hand.

As Louis observed, Harry began to skillfully manipulate the pizza dough; _fuck_ , not only was Harry drop-dead gorgeous and insanely sweet, but he was also great with his hands. He then progressed to carefully spreading a red sauce--possibly marinara--over the immaculately flattened dough. To cover the sauce, Harry neatly sprinkled a substantial layer of white cheese--recognizable by Louis as mozzarella--and then started to place the dreaded _pineapple chunks_ across the pizza.

“Wait, stop!” cried Louis. Watching the placement of pineapple on his pizza was almost physically painful; he needed to quickly procur a logical reason for abstaining from pineapple on at least half of the pizza. Though his brain suggested revealing the truth to Harry, he quickly eliminated this option--at least for now. “Could you only put the pineapple on half of the pizza?”

“What? Why?” asked Harry curiously. “Louis, you _do_ like pineapple on pizza, right?” 

The universe had presented Louis with the ideal opportunity to confess to his rapidly spiraling lie, but his mouth seemed to have other plans. “Of course I do, Curly. Pineapple is positively wonderful. It’s just that--Umm--one of me flatmates is not a massive pineapple fan, and we were planning on splitting this pizza.” Louis breathed a large sigh of relief; hopefully, Harry would fall for his story and abstain from the extra pineapple.

“Well, then. I guess that I can make an extra special exception for you and your ridiculous pineapple hater of a flatmate,” Harry stated with a joking smile. “Just make sure to let your flatmate know that he’s missing out on the wondrous experience known as the Pineapple Supreme.” 

For the first time, Louis began to regret his lie. Harry was a genuinely wonderful person who was even willing to deviate from his usual menu to satisfy the whims of Louis’ supposed flatmate. What marvelous act had he completed in a past life to deserve the attention of someone like Harry?

Soon enough, the pizza was completed, and Harry strolled over to the cash register to ring up Louis’ purchase. As he handed over his credit card, Louis arrived at the realization that he was simultaneously excited and dismayed to have to leave _A Pizza My Heart_ \--and Harry. Though he was itching to banish the thought of pineapple pizza from his mind, he had thoroughly enjoyed Harry’s company, and it didn’t help at all that Harry was exactly Louis’ type.  

After Louis had been handed his pizza box--complete with a cheeky pineapple logo--he prepared to march out of this strange, yet amusing pizzeria for once and for all. However, his walk was suddenly interrupted by a loud shout. Turning around, he saw Harry waving at him and beckoning him closer.

“Louis! Are you sure you don’t want to eat your pizza in here? My Pineapple Supreme tastes best fresh; I personally prefer it fresh out of the oven,” questioned Harry.

“Sorry, Harry. I’d love to, but you know, I have places to go and flatmates to feed,” rambled Louis as he casually strolled towards the door. He absolutely had to leave the restaurant before he accidentally accepted Harry’s offer. There was no way that he could’ve eaten inside of _A Pizza My Heart_ without having to eat the pineapple pizza. It didn’t matter that Harry was the kindest and fittest man that Louis had seen in literal ages; that pineapple pizza _was not_ going anywhere near his mouth.   

“Well, it was lovely to meet you, Louis. See you around soon!” With that, Harry beamed brightly at Louis and continued to wave until the shorter man had completely exited the pizzeria.

Outside _A Pizza My Heart_ , Louis leaned against the wall and attempted to control the explosion of thoughts racing through his brain. _C’mon, Tommo_ , he scolded himself. He couldn’t afford to get tangled up with Harry--no matter how attractive the other man was. Their first interaction was entirely centred around a lie; Louis didn’t want to risk the potential of further deception, especially if they were to eventually develop a relationship, whether it be as friends or something more.

But, _shit_ , Harry was something special. Despite his horrible pizza opinions, his tattooed arms and cheeky smile had captivated Louis, drawing him into a world of dimples and curly hair. And, when Harry had waved goodbye, he had seemed almost eager to see Louis again--though it may simply have been Louis projecting his feelings.

Anyway, none of this mattered. Louis was never going to see Harry again. _For fuck’s sake_ , the taller man owned a pineapple pizzeria--the exact topping that Louis had detested for the past twenty five years. He would just have to find another pizzeria. The solution was simple. Very simple.

 

~~

 

Honestly, Louis did not mean for this to happen.

He blamed it all on the _goddamn_ pizza. Despite his attempts to hate it, the pizza--at least the parts minus the pineapple--was mouth-wateringly delicious. Though both Liam and NIall initially teased him for purchasing a half pineapple pizza, their jokes were instantaneously silenced after sampling a slice. Niall--the flat’s resident pizza connoisseur--had agreed wholeheartedly with Louis that _A Pizza My Heart_ made one mean pizza.

Although Louis had willingly shared the pizza with his flatmates--after all, someone had to eat the pineapple slices--he decided to keep his knowledge of Harry, the attractive owner, all to himself. If Liam and Niall found out about his growing crush, he would never be able to live it down. Plus, he had never revealed the key detail that _A Pizza My Heart_ only sold pineapple pizza. His mates discovering that he had lied about his hatred of pineapple pizza in order to impress a fit guy would be the ultimate embarrassment. It would even surpass the time he was absolutely pissed and tried to make out with Liam’s Batman cutout. And, basically, that sort of embarrassment was a moment he was not eager to relive.

Now, less than a week after his initial venture to _A Pizza My Heart_ , Louis was shamefully returning to the pineapple-themed pizzeria. He couldn’t help it. The flavors in the pizza were outstanding, and both of his flatmates had requested pizza for lunch.

_Technically_ , he didn’t _have_ to return to the pizzeria. He could have sent either Liam or Niall, but he didn’t want them to discover the pineapple-based menu, plus he was secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of Harry again.

Inside of _A Pizza My Heart_ , there was a impressive volume of customers--far more than Louis had anticipated for a Thursday. He was truly surprised by the sheer volume of restaurant patrons; how could so many people enjoy the _abomination_ known as pineapple on pizza?

Despite the plethora of customers, the one man that he was searching for was nowhere to found. Instead, standing behind the counter was an Asian man with long, perfectly silky black hair--most definitely not the Harry that Louis had been daydreaming about. According to the pineapple-shaped nametag, this man was named Steve. And, if Louis remembered his conversation with Harry correctly, then Steve was one of Harry’s close friends who had contributed to the development of _A Pizza My Heart_.

Right now, Louis felt positively betrayed by the universe. He had bravely ventured into the pineapple-infested pizzeria, and Harry wasn’t even working today. What kind of cruel world was this? And what had he ever done to deserve all of this torture?

Regardless of Harry’s lack of presence, Louis was determined to acquire another pizza. If he dared return to the flat without a pizza, his mates would definitely question his suspicious actions. So, without another thought, Louis leapt into the line to order himself a pizza.

“Hello, welcome to _A Pizza My Heart_! What would you like to order today?” Steve asked, preparing a pile of pizza dough. 

“Umm… Could I please have a pizza with half cheese and half Pineapple Supreme?” ventured Louis cautiously. He was aware that cheese-only pizzas were not typically served at _A Pizza My Heart_ , but he prayed that Steve would be able to accommodate his request. 

“Cheese?” Louis was screwed; apparently, he was not going to get the wondrous cheese pizza. “Wait, by any chance, are you Louis?” continued Steve.

Louis was prepared for an array of insulting questions directed towards his refusal of pineapple on half of the pizza. He was not prepared to be asked for his name. And, _wait a second_ , how the hell did Steve know his name?

“Umm--uh--yes. I am Louis,” he slowly replied. “How do you know who I am? Erm--have we met before?”

“Well, hello Louis! I’ve never met you personally; however, my colleague Harry told me all about--yeah,” Steve stumbled, suddenly looking extremely interested in the pizza dough in his hands. “Sorry… I really wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Please don’t tell Harry anything. He’d absolutely freak out.”

Louis was having a mental crisis; _fuck_ , Harry had been talking about him to Steve. Did this mean that Harry was interested in him? Or, _oh no_ , was he complaining about Louis’ order of cheese pizza? This was not good; it could _not_ be good. The man must have noticed Louis’ attempts at deception; Harry probably detested him by now. 

“Louis,” yelled Steve, snapping Louis out of his self-deprecating trail of thought. “Hey, are you alright? I called your name a couple of times already. Don’t worry about what I just--Umm--mentioned; I promise it was nothing negative.” 

_Phew_ , at least Harry didn’t hate him completely. But, did this mean something positive? Or, was it just a simple comment about the man who ordered pizza without pineapples? Louis had no clue what Steve had meant, and it was driving him absolutely crazy. However, he had to at least attempt to play cool until he was back in the safety of his own flat.

“Thanks, Steve. And don’t sweat it; I won’t mention a thing to Harry,” he stated, as he mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. “But, could I ask you a massive favor? I realize that cheese pizza isn’t on the menu, and I apologize if it creates extra work for you. But, I actually really hate pineapple on pizza--please don’t tell Harry this--and the pineapple side is simply for me flatmates. So, could I maybe still have a half cheese pizza?” 

Steve burst into laughter. “Sure thing, Louis. Coming right up! Wait, did Harry allow you to order cheese pizza?”

“Yeah--Umm--he did,” replied Louis. 

“Hmmm… That’s quite interesting,” murmured Steve, deep in thought. 

Louis wondered what was so _bloody_ fascinating about cheese pizza. It was simply cheese on top of marinara sauce and dough; it wasn’t rocket science. In fact, it was much simpler than many of the other exotic creations at _A Pizza My Heart_. And, most of all, did Steve’s surprise have to do with Harry’s involvement or the cheese pizza itself?

“So, Steve, what’s so interesting about cheese on pizza?” questioned Louis anxiously.

“Absolutely everything,” replied Steve mysteriously. “It’s for me to know, and for you to wonder.”

Louis was not a patient man. There was nothing he disliked more than waiting--possibly other than pineapple on pizza. But, right now, the subject of his hatred was this mystery surrounding the cheese pizza. Why couldn’t Steve just give him a _goddamn_ answer? He was already confused enough by Harry; he couldn’t handle anything else at the moment.

“Well, I think that’s my cue to go,” Louis announced, grabbing his pizza box and almost tripping over his feet in his haste to exit. Right as he was about to walk outside, a loud shout rang out.

“Louis, for future reference, Harry works the counter everyday except for Mondays and Fridays,” shouted Steve. And, with that, he turned back to the next customer in line, leaving Louis gaping at the Asian man.

Why would Steve find it essential to share this information with Louis? Was Steve somehow able to detect his attraction to Harry? He had so many questions rapidly darting through his mind, yet he had no answers for any of them. Whatever the reasoning may have been, at least he now knew Harry’s work schedule for next time. _Stop it, Tomlinson_ , he mentally scolded himself. There was not going to _be_ a next time. He simply needed to find another pizzeria--one without an obsession with pineapples or absolutely stunning owners.

 

~~

 

Louis was impressed with his self-restraint. He had managed to avoid _A Pizza My Heart_ for four whole days.

But now, it was Tuesday morning, and Louis was most definitely _not_ standing in front of his closet trying to decide upon the perfect outfit. This had absolutely nothing to do with Harry. Absolutely nothing. He just wanted to look presentable; there was no harm in that.

As he dramatically flung another shirt onto his bed, Louis heard the telltale sound of LIam’s footsteps heading towards his room. Frantically leaping into action, he tried to shove all of the offending articles of clothing underneath his bed. He didn’t need--or want--Liam to see his current situation. 

Liam barged into his room. “Hey, Tommo! Do you want to join--,” he paused mid-sentence, taking in Louis’ outfit and the mess of clothing haphazardly shoved underneath the bed. “Wait a second--woah--are those the black jeans that you always wear to the club? The pair that you claim make your arse look wonderful?”

“Umm--uh--well, I was actually just--erm--about to head out and get some--Umm--pizza,” stumbled Louis, looking extremely interested in his navy blue bedspread. 

“Bullshit,” declared Liam. “Unless… you met a cute lad at the pizzeria! That would explain your recently developed craving for pizza.”

“Nope. No, absolutely not. I just really enjoy pizza. Nothing else.”

“Well, then explain your choice in pants. And your newfound interest in pineapple pizza. I thought you hated pineapple pizza; just last month, you called it an absolute disaster to humanity. What’s changed?” Liam inquired, smirking at Louis’ obvious discomfort from this line of questioning.

“You, my friend, are the absolute worst. Why am I even friends with you and Niall? And, for your information, pineapple pizza is still a complete abomination; I wouldn’t ever put that kind of trash in me mouth,” announced Louis as he stormed past Liam and out of their shared flat.

Liam had no right to accuse him of anything. Couldn’t he just mind his own business? It was Louis’ job to pester his mates, not the other way around. Anyways, he wasn’t even doing this to impress Harry. The attractive man was not the reason behind his return to _A Pizza My Heart_ ; it wasn’t like Louis had thought about Harry all weekend. He had just felt like wearing his best jeans, and if they happened to make his arse look excellent, then that was simply an extra bonus.

Maybe, just maybe, Louis was lying to himself. There was a _slight_ possibility that he might have daydreamed about Harry--more than once. It was also possible that those aforementioned fantasies had thoroughly distracted him from completing some of his documents for 78 Records. Well, paperwork was just downright boring, and it was his record company after all. He could afford to submit them a couple of days late. And, plus, he couldn’t help it that Harry had model-esque legs and dimples. Actually, all of this was Harry’s fault. If he wasn’t so perfectly gorgeous, Louis would have never had this issue to begin with.

As Louis approached the entrance to _A Pizza My Heart_ , he paused to consider his actions. What was he trying to accomplish by obtaining Harry’s attention? And, just, _good grief_ , he had only seen the man once. Although Harry was definitely very attractive, it was much too early to determine much else. Right now, Louis would focus on getting to know the pizzeria owner. If it spiraled into something more, he would worry about that later.

When he stepped through the door, he tried to configure his face into the definition of ‘a cool and collected customer’ instead of ‘a weirdo with a massive crush on the fit owner’. However, as soon as he caught a glimpse of Harry casually chatting with another restaurant patron, his face immediately morphed into a fond smile. The other man knew the name of every regular customer at his pizzeria and constantly went out of his way to talk to them. His customers were more than just visitors to _A Pizza My Heart_ ; they were Harry’s friends. He was definitely something special. Louis was amazed and completely enthralled by the taller man’s wonderful character.

Once Harry had completed the previous customer’s pizza order, he glanced up at Louis and beamed. “Hiya, Louis! Welcome back to _A Pizza My Heart_ , where you are always one fine-apple!” announced Harry, pointedly winking at Louis.

Seeing Harry’s wink, Louis felt himself visibly swoon. In order to hopefully regain a bit of his composure, he harshly pinched his leg, hoping to revive some sort of mental function. He had literally been inside for less than five minutes; it was much too soon for him to be panicking about his attraction towards the pizzeria owner.

“Hey, Harry! Good to see you again!” Louis replied with a small smile. “I met your friend Steve the other day; he’s absolutely wonderful. But, I’ll tell you a secret, Harry, your pizza was still the best of all.” Simply from hearing Louis’ compliment of his pizza-making skills, Harry’s face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. It was beyond adorable. _Oh god_ , Louis was in deep; a simple smile shouldn’t have affected him so much.

“Thank you! I take great pride in my pizza-making skills; I’m--erm--great with my hands,” remarked Harry cheekily. He was openly smirking at Louis, obviously aware of the innuendo hidden within his statement. And, _shit_ , Louis was about to melt into a puddle of human mush in the middle of the pizzeria. “Umm--wait a second,” interjected Harry anxiously. “You said that you--uh--met Steve. Oh god, I’m sorry about anything he--yeah.”

“Have no fear, Harry. I enjoyed meeting Steve; he was positively wonderful if not a bit mysterious,” reassured Louis, carefully trying to prevent an accidental reveal of Steve’s secret. Although he was still unsure of the true meaning of their conversation, he was still diligent in his efforts to protect the Asian man’s wishes. No harm in befriending one of Harry’s best mates. And, plus, Steve seemed to be an absolutely wonderful human being. He was someone that Louis would willingly talk to outside of the context of the pizzeria.

With Louis’ words, Harry appeared to visibly relax. His previously tense hands unclenched and released the pizza dough that was receiving the brunt of the abuse. What could be so terrible about a casual interaction between Steve and Louis? Whatever it might be, Louis wasn’t interested in worrying about it at this moment. He needed to be on his A-game in order to talk to Harry. Lying about pineapple pizza was much harder than it looked. It wasn’t like he had mentally rehearsed possible praises for pineapple on his walk over to _A Pizza My Heart_ \--actually, he most definitely had done exactly that.

“That’s quite enough about Steve and his meddling ways for now. Instead, the world needs to know the answer to another very important question,” Harry declared.

This time, it was Louis’ turn to freak out. He was simultaneously excited, yet terrified. Was it possible that Harry returned his feelings and was about to ask him on a date? Or, was Louis--once again--projecting his emotions onto an unsuspecting Harry?

“And, this very important question is… What shall be your pizza order today?” finished Harry.

Louis was unsure whether to be relieved or upset. On one hand, he sincerely wanted to go on a date with Harry, but on the other hand, he was currently _lying_ to the taller boy. He was just lying about his pizza preferences, but that was irrelevant--the lie was still present. And, above all, it was very possible that Harry had no interest in Louis whatsoever. Except, Harry had most definitely winked at him earlier today--that had to mean _something_.

Suddenly, a quiet chuckle interrupted his wandering thoughts. He quickly directed his gaze towards Harry and realized that he had never supplied his pizza order. “Umm… I’ll take another half cheese and half Pineapple Supreme pizza. I wish I could enjoy an entire pineapple pizza, but me flatmates were entirely entranced by the cheese half,” lied Louis worriedly. He was well aware that he was rapidly worsening the lie, but his traitorous heart was determined to acquire Harry’s affections.

“Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful decision. I couldn’t have chosen better myself. Well, except for the cheese portion--that could be easily improved with just a bit of pineapple,” teased Harry. And then, with a flourish of his massive hands, Harry disappeared into _A Pizza My Heart_ ’s back kitchen.

Louis was extremely confused by Harry’s sudden disappearance. In both of his prior visits to the pizzeria, he had never seen anyone venture into the back kitchen. Virtually every potential ingredient was available along the main counter, and usually, the pizza was made directly in front of the customer. What could Harry possibly be doing in the back kitchen? He had ordered the exact same pizza all three times.

After several moments of pondering, Harry, wielding a pizza box, reappeared in front of Louis. It seemed that Harry had crafted the pizza in the back kitchen; however, there didn’t appear to be a distinct reasoning behind this change in location. Was there something special about this pizza? And, if there was, why would Harry need to create it out of sight?

“Here you go! A half cheese and half Pineapple Supreme pizza! Enjoy this delicious creation, and don’t forget to appreciate the pineapple side! I made it especially for you,” stated Harry, smiling brilliantly at Louis. Once Harry had safely handed him the pizza box, the pair headed towards the cash register. Louis was almost twitching in excitement as he walked; he was extremely eager to unveil the ‘special’ pizza. _Cut it out, Tommo_ , he thought determinedly. There was no reason to be so excited over pizza, especially one of the pineapple variety. But, soon enough, the transaction was complete, and, with that, he almost raced out of _A Pizza My Heart_. “Bye, Curly! See you ‘round!” he shouted, already halfway out of the door.

“Thanks for stopping by, Louis! And, don’t forget, the pineapple is extra special!” returned Harry. But, it was already too late, Louis had already exited the pizzeria.

Following a brief walk--more like a speedwalk--back to his flat, Louis was finally about to uncover his ‘special’ pizza when his phone began to buzz insistently. He quickly pulled it out of the pocket of his jeans, hoping to simply ignore the call. However, luck was not on his side. The incoming call was from his close friend and colleague, Bebe. He had been anticipating this call for days, yet, under the excitement of seeing Harry, he had forgotten all about it. He and Bebe had been collaborating on a songwriting project for his label; hopefully, this call would inform him of the artist who had chosen to record their song. With minimal hesitation, he gently placed the pizza on a coffee table and walked into his office to accept the phone call. The call would--most likely--be relatively fast; he could handle waiting a couple more minutes to see the mysterious pizza.

“Hey, Bebe! How are you?” cried Louis, enthusiastically speaking into his iPhone.  

Eventually, after almost half an hour of casual chatter and a spot of actual work talk with Bebe, he finally hung up the phone. Ever since they met at a terribly drab industry gathering several years prior, Louis and Bebe had got on insanely well. And, now that Louis owned 78 Records, the pair had the freedom to collaborate on various ventures.

Strolling back out of his office, Louis halted in his tracks. Where had his pizza gone? He could have sworn that he had placed it on top of the coffee table. Frantically, Louis dashed into the kitchen. Hopefully, one of his flatmates had just moved the pizza out of the way. It couldn't have just disappeared. He had to see his ‘special’ pizza; Harry specifically instructed him to do so.

“Niall Horan! You little shit!” Louis screamed, upon entering the kitchen. The pizza box had been safely transported onto the counter; however, the pizza itself had not received the same treatment. The box lay wide open with only a single slice of cheese pizza remaining. “What the hell did you do to me pizza?”

“Absolutely nothing, mate. It was getting proper cold, so Liam and I decided to split it up. Anyways, we ate all of the pineapple for you, but there’s a slice of cheese left if you want it,” replied Niall, unfazed by Louis’ powerful anger. The Irishman was calmly leaning against the counter while munching on a slice of pizza. “I think the only problem in this situation is you, Louis. Why are you being so damn possessive and temperamental over a pizza? Oh--wait a second--does this have anything to do with the cute pizzeria lad that Liam interrogated you about?”

“No. Just no, Nialler. I simply want some pizza. It has nothing to do with the cute lad at the pizzeria.”

“Oh, so you admit that there is a lad at the pizzeria,” Niall commented with a broad smirk.

“Ugh… Umm--no. Okay, okay. Maybe--just maybe--there is,” moaned Louis, dramatically falling onto a barstool next to where Niall was standing. “It’s just so complicated; he’s probably not even interested in me. But, regardless, he explicitly instructed me to look closely at the pineapple portion of the pizza. It was supposed to be ‘special’, and you just had to go ahead and devour it.”

“Yes! Liam owes me a tenner,” cheered Niall. “I knew something suspicious was going on; there was no other reasonable explanation for the pineapple pizza. Obviously, pizza lad must be right fit; he’s even gotten you to order pineapple, for goodness’ sake.”

“You bet on me?” Louis asked incredulously. “And, for your information, Fit Pizza Lad is named Harry Styles. But, seriously mate, did you notice anything unusual about the pizza? Harry spent a fair amount of time making it; I don’t want to completely ignore his efforts.”

“Well, then. Fit Pizza Lad has a name at last. But, Umm… I didn’t really see anything out of the ordinary; there might have been a pattern in the pineapple placement though. Maybe ask Liam? He might have noticed something else.”

“Liam! Get your skinny arse in here!”

“Louis, what do you want? I’m swamped with paperwork for my upcoming presentation. Can this wait until another time?” exclaimed Liam exasperatedly.

“No, absolutely not. This is a matter of absolute importance, Payno,” declared Louis firmly.

“Okay, okay. I’m here. What is so important that you simply had to interrupt my work?”

“Well, you and Nialler made the poor decision to devour my pizza, so I have a handful of questions for you,” Louis stated.

“Basically, Fit Pizza Lad--apparently named Harry--made our Louis a special pizza, and we ate it before he had a chance to look at it,” clarified Niall. “Also, you owe me a tenner! I totally won the bet; Fit Pizza Lad does exist.”

“Now, going back to the interrogation of Liam,” insisted Louis, who was positively embarrassed by all of the attention directed towards his currently non-existent love life. “Harry told me to closely inspect the pineapple portion of the pizza. So, the question is, did you notice anything special on the pizza?”

 “Hmmm,” pondered Liam. “I’m not positive, but I believe that the pineapple chunks may have spelled out a word or something.”

“What do you mean ‘or something’?” exclaimed Louis. “Didn’t you at least attempt to read it? What if it was something important?”

“Well, unlike some of us, I don’t have all the time in the world. I just wanted a quick bite to eat before going back to work. Wait! Wait a second--I think there was a sticky note inside the box! I put it on the counter.”

As soon as Liam uttered the words, Louis lept out of the chair he was previously sitting on and raced towards the piece of paper lying on the counter. It was a relatively inconspicuous green sticky note containing a couple of sentences. The scrawl on the note was in all capitals and was quite quirky--exactly what Louis had anticipated for Harry’s handwriting. He eagerly picked up the paper, and turning away from his flatmates, he began to read the note.

 

**Louis,**

**It has been so wonderful to meet and get to know you. I hope you feel the same. Send me a message if you do. Maybe, we could get lunch sometime?**

**P.S. Check the pineapple.**

 

Overall, Louis was thrilled by Harry’s note. The other man was absolutely endearing, even with his cryptic writing style. Was he trying to ask Louis out? Or, was it simply a gathering for friends. Additionally, the portion about a text message was proper confusing. Louis didn’t even have Harry’s number. Out of sheer curiosity, he turned the note over to search for a phone number, but to no avail. He then examined the entire pizza box; perhaps Harry had written his number in an obscure location. Yet, the mysterious phone number was nowhere to be found. 

_Good going, Tomlinson_ , he thought. Somehow, he had managed to ruin his opportunity to go on a (maybe) date with Harry. And, even worse, he didn’t even get a chance to look at the ‘special’ pizza. The other man had seemed positively chuffed about this creation, and Louis never got to witness the cause of this excitement. Despite his minor despair, he decided to simply return to _A Pizza My Heart_ . Not tomorrow though, but the day after. The _talk_ had to happen soon, yet he couldn’t appear _too_ eager. He could speak with Harry in person; they could quickly straighten out this disaster.

 

~~

 

Today was the day. Louis was finally going to confront Harry with his feelings. He could no longer tolerate the constant suspense and self-control. There were only two possible endings to this Thursday; he would be either elated or heartbroken--but preferably the first option.

As he slowly completed his usual morning routine, he could feel his stomach churning with a mixture of nerves and excitement. Similar to the previous morning, which now felt like the distant past, Louis focused his attention on selecting the ideal outfit. However, unlike the prior morning, he enlisted the assistance of both Liam and Niall. He was no longer concerned about teasing from his mates--he just needed to impress Harry. His outfit had to be casual enough for a visit to a pizzeria, yet it also had to display his best features. And, furthermore, it had to remain true to his personal style of athletic streetwear. He couldn’t afford to deceive Harry even more.

After over thirty minutes of determined searching, Liam and Niall finally composed the ideal outfit for Louis. They chose a button-up flannel to match with a pair of light wash designer jeans--one of the fanciest items in his wardrobe--and some white sneakers. To complete the outfit, Louis painstakingly manipulated his hair into the perfect quiff.

Before exiting his flat, he stood in front of his bathroom mirror and carefully rehearsed what he planned to say to Harry. He didn’t want to fuck it up, especially if the other man actually returned his feelings. Though the entire situation had begun with physical attraction, it had soon spiralled into something much greater--a massive crush. Harry was not only a gorgeous model, but he was also a kindhearted soul.

Pulling himself from his musings, Louis spared only a single glance towards his reflection before walking out towards the door to his flat and grabbing his keys, phone, and the note from Harry.

The walk to _A Pizza My Heart_ seemed to last only a split second. Before he knew it, he was standing directly in front of the pizzeria door. Without hesitating, he pulled open the door, hearing a faint tinkle from the pineapple-shaped bell overhead.

Inside, he saw Harry chatting behind the counter with two other men; one of them was identifiable as Steve while the other was a complete stranger to Louis. The gentle ringing of the bell alerted the trio to his presence within the pizzeria.

Barely even bothering to glance at Louis, Harry stormed away from the counter into the back kitchen, loudly slamming the connecting door. Louis could only look on in absolute shock. This Harry was nothing like the joyous, smiling man from his previous two encounters. Instead of donning a colorful shirt, the pineapple aficionado wore a black hoodie alongside his typical dark skinny jeans. What had changed in the past forty-eight hours?

As Louis walked towards the counter, he glanced hopefully at Steve. Maybe, as one of Harry’s closest mates, Steve would be able to explain Harry’s drastic shift in mood. Yet, to Louis’ great confusion, the Asian man just glared harshly at him and darted after Harry. 

_Fucking hell, I’ve really screwed this one up_ , groaned Louis internally. Somehow, he had irritated Harry and all of his friends, but he had no clue what had happened. Perhaps, the final man standing behind the counter would be able to assist him.

“Excuse me,” muttered Louis gently. “Do you know where Harry and Steve went? I really need to pass a message along to Harry. It’s extremely, extremely important.”

The other man--Fionn, according to his nametag--continued to prepare the pizza toppings. When Louis spoke, Fionn’s head had shifted minutely, so it was apparent that Louis was currently receiving the silent treatment. But, why? He had never met Fionn before in his entire life; Fionn was just one of--oh--Harry’s friends.

“Please, Fionn,” Louis begged desperately. “Whatever happened to upset Harry, if it is my fault, it must be a massive misunderstanding! I would never intentionally attempt to hurt him; he’s simply the sweetest person that I’ve met in years.”

Finally looking up from the pineapple on the counter, Fionn leveled Louis with a fierce stare. “What do you want, Louis? This counter is strictly reserved for customers of _A Pizza My Heart_. And, if my eyes are correct, you don’t look like a customer.”

The other man somehow already knew his name, but, at this moment, it was the _least_ of his problems. Louis sighed and glanced up at the pizzeria’s menu. If he had to purchase a pizza in order to speak to Harry, he was going to buy the goddamn pizza. “Alright, then. I’ll take two Pineapple Supremes and one Fine-Apple Surprise.”

As Fionn crafted the three pizzas, Louis began to explain his version of the story to Harry’s friend. He repeatedly emphasized that he had no clue for the reason behind Harry’s odd behavior and that he had hoped to disclose something important with Harry. However, he decided to keep the precise details of his news a secret--at least for now. 

“Fionn, I realize that you are angry with me. And I don’t know why. But, please, let me speak to Harry. I’m begging you,” cried Louis. 

“I believe your story,” spat Fionn harshly. “But that doesn’t excuse what you did to Harry. If you were so bloody interested in talking to him, why did you reject his offer? You didn’t even have to courtesy to message him. Explain that to me.” 

“What offer?” Louis asked incredulously. “Don’t screw with me. I never saw anything about an offer. And, actually, I came here to get his phone number. I saw his note, but I had no way to reply to him.” To drive his point home, he pulled out the treasured green piece of paper and waved it viciously in front of Fionn’s face. “I know he wanted me to message him, but his phone number isn’t on this note anywhere!”

“What do you mean? Did you even look at the pizza, you absolute arse?” reprimanded Fionn, carelessly throwing toppings onto Louis’ pizzas. “He put his bloody phone number--and his heart--on that pizza. And, you, you just went ahead and threw it all away. There is nothing you can do; you will never be worthy of Harry.”

Louis was taken aback, visibly gaping at Fionn. The phone number had been there all along, yet because of the phone call, he had missed Harry’s grand gesture. Apparently, if Fionn was telling the truth, the curly haired man also harbored feelings for Louis. And, now, he had perceived Louis’ actions as a rejection. 

Lost in thought, Louis realized the immense truth behind Fionn’s final statement. He was truly unworthy of the other man; he had completely _deceived_ the other man with his pineapple lies. The seemingly harmless white lie had rapidly become a tangled web of destruction. How would he ever come clean to Harry? Even if the other man was willing to hear his speech, would he be able to accept Louis’ lies? And, adding onto his negative thoughts, Fionn made it seem as if Louis had completely devastated Harry. This scenario was more likely than Louis wanted to believe; it was a plausible explanation for Harry's monochromatic outfit and stormy mood.

 

“Fionn, I'm begging you. Please let me fix this. I genuinely care about Harry; just let me explain to him at least. And, if he never wants to see me again, I'll willingly leave,” announced Louis with a pleading expression. “And, about the pizza, I had to accept an important phone call from one of my work colleagues. But, while I was otherwise occupied, my bloody flat mates devoured the pizza. I never even saw the phone number. I promise.” 

Fionn blinked confusedly at Louis, seemingly shocked by what he had just heard. “You never saw the number?” 

“Of course I never saw the number,” shouted Louis. “If I saw the number, this problem would have never existed in the first place!”

“Well, in that case, I’ll do my best to help you. But, don't you dare pull something like this again,” threatened Fionn as he quickly completed the three pizzas and rang up Louis’ purchases. Glancing once more at Louis, he darted into the back kitchen. 

It was slowly working out. Maybe, just _maybe_ , everything would turn out fine.

 

~~

 

Everything did not seem to be fine.

Louis had been patiently waiting in _A Pizza My Heart_ for almost twenty five minutes, and neither Harry--nor his friends--had emerged from the back kitchen. Instead, there was a young teenage girl working behind the counter. Yet, to Louis’ great dismay, she was also giving him the silent treatment. It seemed that Harry had informed all of his employees of the current situation with Louis.

Had Harry given up on Louis? Was it too late? Louis hung his head and groaned loudly. He was an absolute arse; of course Harry was going to ignore him. Plus, they had a grand total of two conversations; there was no reason for the other man to pursue such a brief relationship. 

Just when it seemed absolutely futile, the door to the back kitchen opened a fraction. From the gap, Fionn’s head poked out, scanning the pizzeria for Louis. Once the pair had established eye contact, the pizzeria worker beckoned Louis move closer. When Louis was within hearing range, Fionn called out to him. “Hey, Louis. Come on back to the kitchen. Just, please, don’t hurt Harry anymore.” With this cautionary statement, Fionn opened the door the remainder of the way and strolled out of the back kitchen. Following close behind, Steve held open the door for Louis to enter the private area.

Before closing the door, Steve grabbed ahold of Louis’ bicep. “Whatever you do, don’t fuck this opportunity up. Louis, I believe in you. But, you better treat my buddy well.” And then, he closed the door connecting the kitchen to the remainder of the pizzeria.

Harry and Louis were alone at last.

Cautiously, Louis peeked up from the pineapple floor tiles and scoured the kitchen for Harry, who was hunched over on a yellow stool with his back to Louis. Despite the arrival of a second person to the kitchen, Harry did not move a muscle. He was frozen in place--a beautiful, yet downcast sculpture. 

Louis was extremely unsure how to proceed. Should he approach Harry, or would the other man prefer a bit of space? Just in case, he decided to remain where he was standing. There was no reason to add unnecessary stress to the already tense environment.

“Hiya, Harry. It’s me, Louis,” he whispered in a soft voice. However, to the deafeningly silent kitchen, it sounded closer to a scream. Upon hearing Louis’ voice, Harry’s posture immediately relaxed and then, as soon as his mind caught up, he stiffened once again. Finding it relatively safe to continue, Louis ventured a couple of steps closer to the gorgeous man.

“Is it okay for me to be back here? If you wish, I can leave right now,” he questioned. Although he was eager to reveal his true feelings towards the other man, Harry’s comfort would remain the utmost priority throughout this entire experience.

“Louis,” acknowledged Harry after a brief silence, spinning the stool a fraction. Now, at this angle, Louis could see Harry’s chiseled profile, but his attention was immediately captured by Harry’s tear stained cheeks and red rimmed eyes. “Umm… You can stay,” Harry continued. “Just, erm, don’t laugh at me. I already know that I made a proper fool of myself; I don’t need you to rub it in.” With that, Harry finally lifted his gaze from his lap and locked eyes with Louis. His expression conveyed a powerful sense of hurt that pierced Louis’ heart. He was the one who had caused such immense distress upon this beautiful soul.

“Harry, no,” Louis cried, his chest tight from the desperate pounding of his heart. “I can explain everything. You are not a fool, absolutely not. You’re beyond lovely. I promise.”

Harry startled abruptly, seemingly confused by Louis’ statement. “What do you mean?” he asked, a slight trace of hope visible in his emerald eyes. However, it disappeared almost immediately, replaced by pure anger. He stood up from the stool and briskly marched towards Louis.

“You blatantly ignored my pizza and my note! I can’t even believe it. Louis Tomlinson, you are the most confusing and annoying person I’ve had the misfortune of meeting. At first, you seemed to reciprocate my feelings, but as soon as I attempted to reach out, you completely shut me down. Just exactly what is happening here? Are you here to make fun of me? If so, don’t waste your time. I’ve already been humiliated enough. And, more than anything else, I’m confused. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to think, much less feel!” shouted Harry, looking angrier than Louis had ever expected. Exhausted from his furious monologue, he collapsed back onto the pineapple adorned stool and placed his head in his hands. Hoping Louis wouldn’t notice, he furtively wiped at his eyes which appeared to be suspiciously damp around the edges.

This was a harsh contrast from the calm and peaceful pizzeria owner who Louis had initially been attracted to, yet both versions of Harry were insanely enticing to him. Even while angry, Harry was absolutely stunning; nothing could detract from that.

As Harry completed his rant, Louis looked on in silence. At last, it was his chance to explain the recent misunderstanding to Harry. He understood that the other man was hurting, but hopefully, this would be able to change the course of Harry’s emotions. Despite his conscience’s nagging, he decided that it was not the proper opportunity to confess his dislike for pineapple pizza. Right now, he had to focus on feelings, not pineapple.

“Harry, I can’t tell you how to think, nor can I tell you how to feel. But, I can tell you how I think and how I feel,” Louis took a deep breath and composed himself, preparing himself for the imminent reveal. “I think that you are positively fit--absolutely gorgeous, in fact--and one of the most genuine characters on this planet. And, furthermore, I think this entire situation is a massive misunderstanding. I would never--in any scenario--make fun of you, Harry. And, if you ever got the impression that I was doing that, I’m so very sorry. I actually came here to tell you how I felt.” 

Louis began to pace back and forth across the room. Though he was almost certain that Harry shared his feelings, the moment was still positively nerve-wracking. “I feel like you are a wonderful person, and I would be extremely interested in going on a date with you. Also, I feel that you should give me your phone number--of course, only if you are interested.”

Harry’s eyes were impossibly wide, but the hopeful expression growing across his face was apparent. “You want my phone number?” he clarified, looking extremely small and timid perched on the stool. It was a sharp contrast from the angry figure from only a minute prior. 

“Yes.”

“How come? You already have my number,” questioned Harry, his voice gently quivering by the conclusion of his statement. 

“I need to explain something else,” Louis announced. “When you gave me the pizza yesterday, I had to accept an important work call, so me bloody flatmates devoured the entire pizza before I ever saw it. So, I only saw your sweet note; there was no trace of a phone number. Basically, I came here to reply to your note since, unknowingly, I lost any other method of communication. I sincerely apologize for all of the stress and confusion that was caused by my own stupidity.”

“Louis, I believe you. But, you were wrong about one thing. It is actually _you_ who is wonderful-- not me. Without questioning it, you waited and tolerated all of my excessive drama.”

With the grand misunderstanding finally abolished, Louis and Harry stood across from each other, simply staring deeply into the other’s eyes. Louis desperately wanted to move closer, but he wasn’t sure of the boundaries, not right now. Harry smiled gently at Louis and that was all the encouragement he needed.   

_Screw it_ , he took two brisk steps forward and embraced Harry in a tight hug. At first, Harry remained frozen in place, but he quickly relaxed and returned the squeezing hug. This hug felt beyond natural to Louis. It was almost like a hug from his mother; it felt like coming home. They fit like puzzle pieces that were designed for one another. There was no question in his mind; Harry was truly special. 

Suddenly, Louis felt Harry’s lanky form tremble against his smaller body. Instinctively, he pulled Harry even closer, which was virtually impossible, and rubbed comforting circles into his back.

“Hey, love, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, erm. These are happy tears; I promise. I’m sorry that I’m so emotional,” mumbled Harry softly, pulling away from Louis to wipe his face with a sleeve of his hoodie.

“Hey, there. Never apologize for something like that. You are wonderful; don’t try to change anything about you. Not for me, not for anyone,” comforted Louis, gently untangling himself from Harry in order to grasp the taller man’s hands. “I like you for you. Curly hair, pineapple addiction, and all.” He reached up and carefully wiped the tears away from Harry’s face with the pad of his thumb. In return, Harry cautiously leaned into the touch and flashed a brilliant smile, bringing back his dimples. 

“Thank you, Louis,”

“No, thank you, love,” contrasted Louis with a soft smile. “Now, how about that lunch that you offered?” 

If Louis had thought Harry was beautiful before, now he was _absolutely_ radiant. He was eagerly bouncing on the toes of his Chelsea boots, allowing his gleaming eyes to sparkle in the overhead lighting.

“No thanks,” Harry teased, causing Louis’ heart to erratically skip a beat. “I’d actually prefer some dinner. Since you don’t seem to be much of a chef, how about dinner at my flat tomorrow?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Curly? Let me tell you, I can make a mean bowl of cereal,” bantered Louis. “But, in all seriousness, I would absolutely love to have dinner with you.”

Harry beamed and surged forwards to encompass Louis in another tight hug. Pressing his face into Louis’ shoulder, he replied, “I’ll see you at seven tomorrow then?”

“You bet. I’ll be there at seven o'clock, on the dot,” assured Louis, patting Harry on the back once more. 

Reluctantly untangling themselves from one another, Harry gave Louis his phone number--saved under ‘Hot Pineapples Harry’--hopefully preventing another misunderstanding. Louis returned the favor and then quickly jotted down the address of Harry’s flat.

Everything was finally resolved. Louis felt physically lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. _You aren’t in the clear yet, Tommo_ , prompted his traitorous brain, reminding him of the omnipresent lie concerning the pineapple pizza. Firmly banishing this thought to the further corner of his mind, he became determined to live in the moment and treasure every interaction with Harry. 

Suddenly, the door to the back kitchen slammed open. “Hello, lovebirds! I see that you two have reconciled your differences,” announced Steve, startling the pair away from one another. Despite the awkwardness of his entrance, Steve smiled happily and squeezed Louis’ shoulder reassuringly. “I’m glad young Louis here was able to communicate his differences; you two look absolutely lovely together.” 

Harry quickly glanced at Louis and shot him a brief smile. It was apparent to everyone in the room, especially Louis, that he was thrilled by the recent shift in his relationship. 

“Harry, I know you and Louis are having a wonderful time admiring one another, but could you please bring your flirtatious arse back to the counter?” questioned Fionn, poking his head into the back kitchen. 

“Heeey!” Harry countered, looking at Louis for support. “I’m sure that you are perfectly capable of handling these customers on your own; I did an excellent job training you, if I may say so myself. And, anyways, Steve can help you.”

On that note, Steve strode out of the kitchen to return to his position at the counter, providing  Louis and Harry with a moment of privacy.

“Love, Fionn is right,” replied Louis. “More than anyone, I would love to stay back here with you, but you need to get back to work. You’ll see me tomorrow, and, plus, I’ve got your phone number--I haven’t lost it this time--right here.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” muttered Harry with a downcast expression. “Bye, Lou.” 

“None of that, love,” reminded Louis, tenderly poking Harry in the cheek. Just as planned, his actions brought a smile, complete with dimples, back to Harry’s face. “See, there’s those dimples of yours!”

From Louis’ gentle teases, Harry’s entire body language became relaxed once again. Unknowingly, he was slightly leaning into Louis’ welcoming actions. 

Motivated by Harry’s obvious comfort with the situation, Louis carefully leaned in and brushed his lips against Harry’s cheek. He felt his slight stubble rubbing against the smooth skin of Harry’s face. When he leaned back, Harry was blushing bright red with a massive smile plastered on his face. 

With that, Louis turned towards the door leading to the pizzeria. “Bye, Curly! See you tomorrow!” he shouted, glancing back at Harry once more before exiting the kitchen.

By the time he had exited _A Pizza My Heart_ , the realization of his upcoming date with Harry--beautiful, gorgeous, _pineapple-loving_ Harry--had finally sunk into his mind. After quickly scanning the street, he jumped up and down in sheer excitement, pumping his fist into the air. _Fuck yes,_ he cheered internally with a massive grin stretched across his face, creating crinkles next to his eyes.

Everything was finally wonderful. Well, except for the pineapple lie, but he didn’t want to focus on that.

 

~~

 

Louis was not prepared for the virtual _assault_ of questions that were directed at him as soon as he entered his flat. Liam and Niall were shouting over one another in their eagerness to interrogate him.

“Boys, boys, settle down,” he exclaimed. “There’s plenty of Louis for everyone; no need to quarrel.”

“Tommo, stop fooling around,” groaned Liam, exaggerating his annoyance with the smaller man. “We have to know; did you finally get Fit Pizza Lad’s number?”

“For the last time,, his name is Harry, not Fit Pizza Lad. Even though, I guess, that description is insanely accurate,” contemplated Louis, slowly drifting into a sea of daydreams about Harry’s gorgeous smile and charming personality. “But, to satisfy your impatience, I did get his number.”

“I knew you could pull it off,” cheered Niall, happily slapping Louis on the back. 

“But, that’s not all, lads. I may have also gotten myself a date; we made plans to have dinner at his flat tomorrow.”

“Ooohh, get it, Tommo!” Niall shouted with a cheeky smirk crossing his features. If anyone else--namely Liam--had even _attempted_ to tease him, Louis would have exploded instantaneously. He didn’t have anything personal against Liam; he just preferred to keep his private life, well, private. Yet, if it was Niall, with his bleached blonde hair and Irish humor, the situation was wildly different. He was Louis’ best mate, practically since birth; nobody understood him better than Niall did. So, he allowed the blonde lad to continue his excited, albeit slightly inappropriate remarks about Louis’ finally existent love life.

As Niall and Liam eagerly discussed the fate of Louis’ upcoming date with Harry, the man himself was lost deep in thought. He was trying--emphasis upon _trying_ \--to develop an accurate and believable explanation for the bloody pineapple lie. Currently, his mind was blank. Not a single useful thought within reach. How did pineapple pizza become so _fucking_ challenging? 

And then, it hits him. Not the solution to his deception, but another equally shocking revelation. Ever since meeting Harry on that fateful day, he had barely even complained about the presence of pineapple on pizza. In fact, he had ordered three pineapple pizzas today. _Wait, pizza?_ He soon realized that during the excitement with Harry, he had entirely forgotten about his pizzas. _Oh well_ , it was a small price to pay in order to reconcile with Harry. And, anyways, all of the pizzas were covered in pineapple chunks. So much pineapple pizza. Before, the sheer thought brought a grimace to his face. But now, it only brought a slight smile; the despicable topping greatly reminded him of Harry and the obscure decorations that lined the interior of _A Pizza My Heart_. There was a small possibility--but a possibility nonetheless--that this problem would be easier to resolve than Louis had initially predicted.

In spite of his slowly changing opinion on pineapple, he couldn’t disregard the lie altogether. There was still _no_ way that he would voluntarily eat pineapple pizza; it just wasn’t his preference. He wouldn’t judge those who enjoyed this pizza topping, but putting it in his own mouth, _hell no_.

After thoroughly deliberating the pros and the cons, he made the executive decision to consult Liam and Niall about his pineapple pizza dilemma. Even though both lads would inevitably laugh at his predicament, he desperately needed a solution. Any solution, but preferably one that involved the continuation of his budding relationship with Harry.

“Umm… Can I ask you guys a favor? Just, Umm, promise to not laugh. I may have gotten myself into a wee bit of a situation,” asked Louis, nervously shifting his feet. He truly needed their assistance, and hopefully, his mates--probably Liam, the more rational of the duo--would be able to develop a suitable resolution.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Louis, you already know that you can tell us anything,” comforted Liam, quickly becoming protective over the shorter man. “Does this happen to have anything to do with a certain Fit Pizza Lad? Did Harry do something?”

“Yes, and no. Also, you do realize that Harry has a name right?” Louis carefully bantered with a slightly forced smile. Even though these were his two best mates, he often bottled up his inner feelings and disliked revealing his weaknesses to others--even if it was simply a minor misconception about pineapple.

“Sure, whatever, Louis. Are you going to talk to us or not? We--I’m sure Niall shares my opinion--only want to help you.”

“Thanks, man. It really means a lot to me,” smiled Louis, almost in awe of his wonderful friends. “The story behind this, erm, situation is pretty complicated and quite long, so you lads might want to sit down for this.”

Once Liam and Niall were comfortably settled upon the sofa, Louis began to explain the entire history of the pineapple pizza lie. By the time he completed his explanation, Niall had devoured an entire bag of crisps, and Liam was restlessly fidgeting with the sleeves of his jumper.

“Umm. Wow,” Niall stumbled, left speechless by Louis’ explanation.

The more articulate of the two, Liam, was staring into the distance, seemingly contemplating the story. “So you essentially lied to Fit Pizza Lad--yes, I know his name is Harry--about your least favorite food in this entire _world_ ? And, even worse, Harry is the _owner_ of a pineapple-themed pizzeria? Louis, what in the world were you thinking?”

“I _wasn’t_ thinking; that’s what caused this entire problem. And, when you put it like that, it sounds _way_ worse than it actually is. It’s not like I’ve gone and killed someone. Plus, this can be resolved, right?” he questioned nervously, trying to mask his overwhelming concern with an easy, relaxed expression. Though he’d never admit it aloud, he was sincerely worried that his newfound relationship with Harry would be terminated as soon as the other man learned of his secret. Harry might have overlooked a difference in pizza opinions, but a rapidly spiraling lie was a whole other scenario. How did he expect this to ever work? And, more important, why the hell had he even lied in the first place? The answer to that question was shockingly simple. Louis had been shocked by Harry’s beauty and kindness; his brain was most definitely not functioning properly. And, for the expansion of the lie, well, he was genuinely afraid of losing Harry. Who could blame him? The curly haired man was an absolute _angel_. A heavenly angel. A godsend to humanity. 

After a brief stretch of silence--a true rarity in a flat occupied by three relatively noisy men--Liam quickly stood up and started to pace across the flat. “Louis, mate, I really hate to break it you, but I don’t think there’s a single easy or foolproof solution to your issue. You are just going to have to tell him the truth. All of the truth.” 

Louis groaned dramatically and put his head in his hands. Although he knew the truth would have to be unveiled eventually, he had secretly been praying for a miraculous solution.

A small, miniscule portion of him was greatly relieved by LIam’s statement. Even though the truth would most likely end everything with Harry, it would also remove the constant weight nagging upon his heart. Generally, he thought of himself as a truthful person. Though he occasionally told a minor fib, it greatly pained him to deceive those important to him. And, very quickly, Harry had become an important figure in his life. 

Thanking his mates for their assistance and advice during this time of crisis, he retreated to the privacy of his room. He needed the silence to think. To wonder. To hope. Even if he had to tell the truth, Louis was not going to give up Harry without a fight. There were plans to generate, speeches to write, and visits to make. His work was cut out for him.

 

~~

 

Waiting was not one of Louis’ greatest skills. In fact, he was bloody _terrible_ at being patient.

Although he was plenty aware of his date with Harry in less than seven hours, the temptation to drop by _A Pizza My Heart_ was very, very strong. He couldn’t help it; Harry was a positively magnetic character. 

So, instead of visiting the pizzeria himself, he sent Niall in his place. The Irish man was instructed to not only stop by the pizzeria but to also deliver two important notes, laboriously written by Louis earlier in the day. The first note, scrawled in Louis’ neatest handwriting, contained a variety of unique puns--he _definitely_ didn’t consult Google various times. He hoped that the other man was entertained by the ridiculous statements; otherwise, the note was beyond embarrassing. Even though Harry had never actually declared his love for puns, Louis had taken a guess based upon the name of his pizzeria--an obvious, yet endearing play on words.  

 

**Hiya love,**

**Hope you’ve** **_bean_ ** **having a** **_pear_ ** **fect day so far! Just wanted to remind you that you’re positively** **_egg_ ** **cellent, one in a** **_melon_ ** **. Looking forward to dinner a** **_waffle_ ** **lot!**

**Yours sincerely, Louis x**

**P.S. Did you enjoy my** **_berry_ ** **silly puns?**

 

The previous night, while furiously brainstorming ideas to impress Harry, Louis arrived at the conclusion that such a task would require major assistance. And, who better than Harry’s closest mates--Steve and Fionn? So, his second note was  a straightforward and practical one directed to the two pizzeria workers. Well, actually, his message was more like a questionnaire concerning the life and existence of a certain Harry Styles.

See, to execute his master plan, he needed information--lots of it. Information, which both Steve and Fionn possessed. Information, such as several of Harry’s favorite items. Information, that would soon be put into practical use.

While Niall delivered the letters and received the replies, Louis was hard at work crafting the speech that would eventually uncover his lies.

_Lies_. It was such an unpleasant word. Just the sheer thought of deceiving Harry hurt Louis’ heart. Such a beautiful soul was undeserving of this type of treatment. He was genuinely in awe of Harry’s beauty--both inner and outer. In awe of being his acquaintance, or even more. 

Eventually, Niall returned from the pizzeria, wielding replies from both Harry as well as Steve and Fionn. As the Irishman stepped foot into the flat, Louis raced to the front door and eagerly snatched both letters from his waiting grasp. There was no time to waste: both notes had to be read immediately--Steve and Fionn’s for the urgent information. Harry’s for the sweet reply.

 

**Hello Lou,**

**Your sweet note was absolutely wonderful. Looking forward to tonight as well. Prepare to be blown away by my dinner creation.**

**H. x**

**P.S.** **_Olive_ ** **your puns** **_berry_ ** **much.**

 

Louis smiled to himself and clutched the note to his chest, before carefully placing it on top of his bedside table. Harry’s terrible (wonderful) puns were extremely endearing; they simply contributed to Louis’ adoration of the other man. And, the slight nickname made his heart flutter more than he dared to admit. 

Well, _God_ , he was already fucked, wasn’t he?

Tonight, he would be coming clean about his hatred--now closer to dislike--of pineapple pizza. And, right now, Louis was just standing around staring at a short note with a fond expression. Should he be reading Steve and Fionn’s note? Most definitely. Should he be planning and scheming? Absolutely. Was he doing either of the aforementioned tasks? _Obviously_ not.

With a resolute sigh, he turned away from the delightful note and prepared to get down to business. There was a fit lad--namely Harry--to win over.

Finally focused on his mission, Louis tore open the envelope containing the note from Steve and Fionn. Quickly reading over the letter, he determined that the two men had successfully complied with his requests and had answered all of the provided questions. _Hell yes_ , he cheered internally. With this newfound information, there was a _slight_ chance--but a chance nonetheless--that he could pull this entire shenanigan off.

Stuffing the note into the pocket of his hoodie, he dashed out of his flat and towards the shops lining his neighborhood’s streets. To complete his plan, Louis needed a variety of supplies; the exact items determined by the information found within the note hidden in his pocket.

After frantically dashing in and out of several stores, he finally acquired all of the necessary supplies--even an eccentric object from the culinary supply store. The shopkeeper had eyed him a bit strangely, but the amusement on Harry’s face was _sure_ to be worth it. 

Back in his flat, Louis was hard at work organizing, arranging, and wrapping the various items that he had purchased. He had even enlisted the assistance of both Liam and Niall-- Liam with the promise to watch Batman at least twice. Niall with a week of free Nando’s.

Thanks to the assistance of his mates, his laundry list of tasks was completed in less than an hour. Honestly, he could have never done this without them. Liam was a bloody _wizard_ with wrapping paper, and Niall--for all his cheeky jokes--was a literary _genius_.

Placing all of the necessary objects by the door to the flat, Louis casually glanced at the time. The clock on his phone read 4:28 in the afternoon. He still had over two hours before his date with Harry.

And, _wait, oh shit,_ he had to see Harry in a handful of hours. He currently looked like a proper mess, dressed in casual sweats and drenched in sweat. Something had to change and quickly. How on _earth_ had he forgotten to allot time for getting ready? He didn’t even have an outfit, much less anything else, organized. If he wanted to make a positive impression on the other man, Louis most definitely needed to get his _shit_ together.

As he compiled a suitable outfit--not too fancy for a first date, yet stunning enough to capture Harry’s attention--Louis pondered the potential outcomes of tonight’s events. Hopefully, everything would go accordingly to plan, but there was always the threat of unpredictability. And, well, if _that_ happened, he needed to be prepared.

By the time Louis was fully ready--at least _physically_ , if not mentally--for this date, he had examined and steeled himself for a variety of alternate scenarios. Preparation was the key to success. Or so he hoped.

With only twenty minutes remaining until the fateful date, Louis exited his bedroom and strolled towards the flat’s door. Briefly glancing into a full-length mirror, he inspected his painstakingly constructed quiff and pulled on a jean jacket.  Satisfied by his reflection, he grabbed the objects placed by the door and turned to exit.

“Looking good, Tommo!” called Niall with a grin.

“I second that!” Liam cried. “Get out there and win over Fit Pizza Lad.” 

Louis flashed a smile at his supportive mates, and with that, he left the flat. As Liam said, he had a _Fit Pizza Lad_ to win over. Time to turn on the signature Tommo charm.

 

~~

 

6:59 pm.

For seven billion people worldwide, it was just another time on the clock. Another minute in another day in another year in another decade. 

But, for Louis Tomlinson, it was a turning point. In less than sixty seconds, his date with Harry--destined to be either a disaster or a success--would begin. And, with only a minute remaining of life as he knew it, Louis was standing hesitantly on Harry’s pineapple themed welcome mat. Buried under the weight of the assorted packages in his arms, he slowly maneuvered a hand towards the doorbell. 

7:00 pm. 

_Ding. Dong_.

As he firmly pressed down the doorbell, Louis could detect the ringing sounds faintly echoing into the hallway. With every buzz of doorbell, his heart beat frantically, thundering against his ribcage. _For fucks’ sake_ , why was he so _damn_ nervous? It was just a first date; it wasn’t like he was a _bloody_ teenager. First dates were easy, even fun. This shouldn’t be so challenging. It didn’t matter that Harry was gorgeous, basically a god amongst humans. That had nothing to do with his abundant nerves. Absolutely nothing.

After forty-five seconds--that felt more like forty-five years--the door to Harry’s flat finally opened. As the curly haired man stepped onto the threshold of the door, he was unexpectedly attacked by a bouquet of vibrant pink flowers. Lilies, to be precise. Magic star double oriental lilies, according to the local florist. 

_Shit shit shit_ , in his eagerness to present the flowers to Harry, he had accidentally smacked the other man in the face. _Wow, what an entrance, Tommo_ , he scolded mentally. It had been approximately one minute, and, somehow, he had already managed to mess up. Discarding his other packages, he decided it was time to veer off plan and resolve this issue. Immediately. 

“Ermm… Uhhmm…” stumbled Harry, at a complete loss for words.  His mouth was wide ajar as he stared at Louis in shock and disbelief. How did one properly respond to being assaulted by a floral arrangement?

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” hurriedly apologized Louis, glancing bashfully at Harry from behind the bouquet, which was currently being utilized as a barrier between the two men. “I--erm--bought these flowers for you. They--uhh--well, according to the florist, they are supposed to mean pure beauty. And, that’s like basically you. Like, yeah. Also--Umm--I am truly sorry about hitting you in the face; it was an accident, I swear. I’d never hit something so gorgeous on purpose. And, yeah, I’m just gonna stop talking right about now.” 

Throughout his embarrassing and rambling monologue, Louis continued to hold out the flower arrangement, hoping Harry would eventually grab ahold of it. _Or not_. Harry didn’t seem interested in accepting the flowers; he seemed more interested in staring at them. Well, staring might have been a slight understatement, he was unabashedly gawking at Louis and the cluster of lilies. Hadn’t the man ever seen a flower before?

“Well--ummm--I’m just really really sorry; I’ve made an absolute arse of myself. I’ll just--ermm--see myself out then,” he stumbled, while gently setting the flowers on the ground and then slowly walking away from Harry’s flat. With a final glance towards the door, he resigned himself to this disastrous fate. After all, he _had_ lied; maybe, this was his punishment. Hanging his head, Louis tried to subtly wipe at his treacherous eyes. Even if he was devastated by the apparent rejection, he refused to showcase his emotions to Harry. No need to reveal that he was bloody _pathetic_. Who even broke down after a rejection on a first date? Nobody. Oh wait, obviously Louis did.

Just as he reached up to cover his face with his jacket sleeve, a loud shout rung out, forcing Louis to halt in his tracks and spin around.

“NO! Stop!” It was the last person he had ever expected, Harry. Leaning out of his flat, he gazed longingly at Louis. With wild hair and bright, eager eyes, it appeared almost as if he wanted Louis to stay. But, that couldn’t be possible; Harry had just _rejected_ him. This seemed to be a recurring pattern in his life at the moment, all of these _bloody_ rejections. First, the pizzeria. Now, the first date. Harry was so very confusing, yet Louis would never change a thing about him.

“Wait! Louis, please!” yelled Harry, running out of his flat in pursuit of Louis. “Don’t go, please, I would like you to stay. I was just a tiny bit--well, maybe a lot--shocked by the flowers; magic star double oriental lilies are my absolute favorite. Wait, how did you know about these flowers? They are often quite difficult to find. But, you didn’t make an arse of yourself; even though your arse is heaven--” Harry covered his mouth in horror as a vibrant blush rose upon his pale complexion. Mumbling frantically under his breath, he jerked his eyes away from Louis’ figure--which was absolutely excellent--and focused his vision on the speckled pattern on the ceiling. In response to Harry’s blatant stare, Louis simply chuckled and beamed at the curly haired man. However, his insides were currently throwing an absolute _rager_ ; Harry, the most heavenly specimen of human, was interested in _him_. 

This date was already amazing. He hadn’t even stepped into Harry’s flat, but it was most definitely the best first date ever. Guaranteed.

“Please, Louis, come on in!” continued Harry, smiling widely as he picked up the forgotten bouquet of lilies. Gingerly clutching the flowers to his chest and breathing in their fragrant scent, he escorted Louis down the hallway and into his flat at last. “Welcome to my humble abode! Actually, I share with my friend Ed, but he’s away visiting family. So, right now, this little place is all mine,” announced Harry with a flourish of his hands.

_Holy shit_ , Harry’s flat was an exact physical representation of his personality. So, basically, it was breathtakingly beautiful and perfectly styled. 

The entire flat was bathed in a gentle glow of natural light--it was getting close to sunset--conveniently provided by massive windows lining the back wall. And, was that a _fucking_ balcony? _Good grief_ , everything about this man, even his flat, was absolutely wonderful. Complementing the late afternoon light, the vaulted ceilings were adorned with gentle, twinkling fairy lights, and to the relief of Louis, only a single strand was pineapple shaped. The walls were pale teal, which would seem out of place in most flats, yet it perfectly suited Harry’s design aesthetic. Covering the walls, there was a multitude of framed black and white photographs, most of them depicted stunning architecture, random quirks, or assorted people, possibly friends or family. Several of the images showcased Steve, Fionn, and a ginger haired man--maybe Ed, the flatmate? However, a prominent trend throughout every image was an obvious lack of Harry. Was he the _photographer_ ? And, _damn_ , Harry was a true Renaissance man. So talented. So beautiful. So everything.

“Wow, Curly, your flat is gorgeous. But--Ummm--it’s nothing compared to you,” he flirted cheesily. It was less than ten minutes into the date, but apparently, nicknames and gross (cute) compliments were already flying. 

Harry simply beamed, enhancing the craters on his cheeks. “Thanks, Lou. But it’s really nothing; I just enjoy decorating. It’s so satisfying to be able to create and customize something, you know?”

Hearing Harry speak about his passions was one of Louis’ favorite things in the universe. It held a special position on the _Reasons to Date Harry Styles List_ . And, _yes_ , this list was in existence. It was only available in his own mind and would be denied in every scenario. But, this list was very much present. And very rapidly expanding.

“Sorry, love, I can’t really relate. My flat is a proper disaster unlike yours,” announced Louis. There was no use lying about his cleaning habits; he’d already messed up enough with the pineapple pizza. He might as well come clean with all of his other disastrous behaviors.  

“That’s absolutely fine!” exclaimed Harry. “Anyways, here’s my kitchen. I thought since we initially bonded over pineapple pizza, we could commemorate our first date by making pineapple pizza!”

_Shit. Fucking hell_. Did the universe plan on killing Louis today?

Harry was absolutely _adorable_ with his suggestion for the date, but this absolutely destroyed all of Louis’ carefully composed plans for revealing his mistruth. Goodbye, carefully thought out ideas. Goodbye, all chances of a future with Harry.

He needed to call Liam and Niall; maybe, one of them could help him. Because, goodness knows, he desperately needed assistance. Desperately. There was no chance he could actually _eat_ the pineapple pizza; something had to be done and fast.  

“Sure! That sounds positively excellent,” Louis lied with a smile--a somewhat fake one--plastered on his face. Though he detested the activity of the date, simply spending time with Harry was blessing. Since eventually the truth _had_ to come out, he would treasure every moment leading up to the inevitable disaster. “Just a fair warning though, I’m a disaster in the kitchen. My flatmates actually _banned_ me from using the kitchen! How dare they?”

Harry let out a loud booming laugh. “Oh gosh! Well, then, I’ll just have to help you out! Not to brag, but I’m superb at making pizza, especially pineapple ones.” With that, he began to rummage through his various kitchen cupboards and extract a multitude of ingredients, culinary supplies, and other objects that greatly confused Louis.

Once all of the ingredients were placed on the counter, the duo--mostly Harry since Louis had appointed himself the role of ‘kitchen supervisor’--began to combine ingredients in a large bowl in order to create the dough. Soon enough, everything was properly mixed, according to Harry. As Louis perched on the counter and worried about the reveal of his deception, Harry removed the mixture from the bowl and started to knead the dough.

In his twenty five years of life on Earth, Louis had never before realized the wonders of kneading dough. Harry’s massive hands were carefully rubbing and stretching the dough, causing Louis to daydream about having those hands on _him_. Without realizing it, he had been intently focused on the dough, and to his embarrassment, Harry soon caught on to his obvious stare and then winked pointedly at him.

This man was going to be the death of him. No doubt about it.

“Lou, make yourself useful and stir the tomato sauce,” Harry exclaimed, swatting him on the bum with a dishrag. Cautiously, Louis strode over the stove but not before retaliating at Harry. While the other man transferred the pizza dough into the oven, he quickly snuck up behind him and began to fiercely tickle him. Hopefully, he was ticklish; otherwise, this would be extremely embarrassing and slightly awkward.

Luck was on his side for once. Harry was _insanely_ ticklish, and he quickly burst into a mess of giggles and curls under Louis’ ministrations.

“Ah, Lou! Stop it! I’m--ha--really ticklish. C’mon! Ahaha! Stop it! You’re gonna make me drop the dough!” shouted Harry as he tried--and failed--to muffle his laughter.

“Never!”

“C’mon Lou! Please!” Harry begged, putting on his most convincing pout. And, well, Louis couldn’t deny anything to those emerald doe eyes, so the tickle war was immediately terminated. What could he say? His heart was a sucker for glimmering eyes, rosy cheeks, and mile-long legs. Or, basically anything related to Harry.

Now that the dough had been safely placed inside the oven to rise accordingly, Harry began to work on cutting up the pineapple. Seeing the pineapple, Louis was suddenly reminded once more of his terrible lie. The inevitable reveal was drawing closer and closer, making him increasingly anxious. Worried that Harry would noticed his dramatic shift in mood, he quickly wiped his sweating palms on his jeans. He needed to talk to Liam, who could most definitely help him--albeit reluctantly.

“Harold, love, where’s the loo in this wonderful flat of yours?” He was extremely aware that barricading himself in the loo was a dick move, but desperate times called for desperate measures. After all, it was better than texting Liam in front of Harry.

“Second door down the hall,” replied Harry absentmindedly, busy dicing the pineapple into small chunks.

“Alrighty. See you in a bit, Curly!” he declared, sneakily pulling out his phone as he walked towards the loo.

Time to text Liam and, hopefully, resolve this entire mess.

 

~~

 

Locked in Harry’s loo, Louis was frantically waiting for Liam to reply to his text. Out of the three of them--Liam, Niall, and himself--Liam was always the most organized and strategic, so it was probable that he could assist Louis in this dire hour. But, only if he would just _reply_ to Louis’ bloody text message. 

 

**Liam James Payne ! SOS ! We have an emergency. Please help.**

 

Finally! After a minute of waiting--which felt closer to a decade--his phone buzzed with an incoming text notification from Liam. It wasn’t Louis’ fault that he was impatient. It wasn’t like he could just hide out in Harry’s loo forever; it was expected that he would return after a brief moment.

 

**mate, whataya want? aren’t u supposed to be on a date with pizza lad?**

 

**Yes, I’m on the date right now. But, I have a problem. A major fucking problem. Harry is making us both pineapple pizza for dinner ! How am I supposed to complete the plan now? I’m gonna have to tell him soon. I need help. Badly.**

 

Once he sent the response to Liam, he prayed for a quick response. From inside the loo, he could detect Harry bustling about the flat. The _last_ thing Louis needed was Harry to inquire about his hiding place inside the loo, so Liam had better move his arse and reply.

 

**your screwed. there’s literally nothing you can do. just come clean bc he seems nice enough. he (probably) won’t reject you**

 

Well, Liam’s advice was proper useless. He needed innovative ideas, not obvious and redundant ones. But, seeing as he had been in the loo for way too long already, Louis was on his own now. And, unless he had a burst of inspiration, Liam’s idea was going to be put into action very soon.

 

**Thanks for nothing, Li. But I’m all out of other ideas. Wish me luck, mate ! I’m gonna need it.**

 

Finally exiting the loo, he turned off his phone--out of politeness to Harry--and stuffed it back into his pocket. Determined to confess his pineapple deception immediately, Louis walked purposefully towards the kitchen. However, he stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw Harry. The man was happily singing and dancing through his kitchen along to Summer Nights from the musical _Grease_ . And, well, Louis was a self-proclaimed lover of _Grease_ , so instead of revealing his lie, he simply joined the dance party.

Harry wasn’t even surprised; on the contrary, he looked extremely pleased. With an enthusiastic zeal, the duo continued their duet throughout the kitchen, complete with over-the-top dance moves. As the song drew to a close, both men stood together in the kitchen beaming at one another despite their heavy breathing.

“I didn’t know you liked _Grease_ so--” they both stated simultaneously, before breaking into a fit of laughter.

“Stealing the words right out of my mouth, Curly,” teased Louis with a fond smile. “And, do I like _Grease_? Of course I do. Everyone with ears and eyes should. It’s only the greatest movie musical in cinematic history!” 

“I’m glad you agree; otherwise, I might have been forced to exile you from my flat! I won’t share the wonders of pineapple pizza with a hater of the art known as _Grease_ ,” declared Harry, reciprocating Louis’ fond smile.

“Oh no, I can’t possibly miss out on your excellent cooking; I might end up starving to death on a diet of ramen and take-away!”

“Well, we can’t have that happen, so you’ll just have to stay for dinner,” smiled Harry, unaware of the internal turmoil plaguing Louis’ soul. Despite his outward happiness and excitement, his heart was utterly distraught by the thought of losing all contact with Harry after tonight. After all, why would Harry be interested in continuing a relationship (or even a friendship) with somebody who lied?

“So. Curly, even though I thoroughly enjoyed that spontaneous dancing duet, weren’t we--well, mostly you--supposed to be making pizza?”

“Absolutely! I was just waiting for the dough to rise in the oven. But now--would you look at that timing--the dough is all ready for us to use,” commented Harry while tenderly removing the dough from the warm oven. “Here, Lou, I’ll let you do the honors. Just spread the sauce, sprinkle some cheese, and then add a bunch of pineapple! This is my absolute favorite part; It’s just so much fun! You can even make a cool design, if you want.”

Louis was beyond endeared. Harry was the sweetest human alive--no doubt about it. He entrusted Louis with the most enjoyable (and favorite) aspect of the cooking process and was eager to share his knowledge about pizza. The intense enthusiasm pouring out of Harry was very contagious, to the point that even Louis found himself to be slightly excited about the pizza.

With the aid of Harry’s instructions, Louis began to spread the sauce and pile the cheese across the dough. But, very quickly, to his uttermost horror, it was time to place the _fucking_ pineapple on top of the pizza. Trying to stifle his cringe, he used a minimal amount of the pineapple chunks; however, this was insufficient for Harry, who immediately requested additional pineapple pieces. Every piece of pineapple resting on top of the pizza represented another portion of Louis’ heart breaking into irreparable shards.

If only he could just grow to _like_ pineapple pizza, then this wouldn’t be such a massive dilemma. But, his taste buds had a very different perspective. Even if he tried to eat the pizza, there was no way that his body could even _swallow_ that wretched concoction. 

However, his overpowering hatred of the pizza in front of him suddenly vanished when he glanced at Harry. The other man was smiling brilliantly at the pineapple pizza; he seemed insanely excited. And, who was Louis to deny Harry a simple pleasure? So, he pushed his inescapable confession back to the far recesses of his brain and instead focused on maintaining Harry’s wonderful smile. Making someone laugh was a talent that he was particularly proud of--he used it frequently on his swarm of younger siblings. It was something he was _actually_ capable of, unlike telling the truth about his pizza preferences.

“Lou, this pizza looks absolutely swell! If your regular job ever gets too boring you should seriously consider employment opportunities at _A Pizza My Heart_ ,” declared Harry happily.

“I wouldn’t go that far, Curly. You haven’t seen me in front of an appliance yet. I might still blow up your entire flat, so just beware!” he teased with a broad smirk--bordering on a fond smile--plastered across his face. 

“Well, since you provided me with such a helpful warning, I’ll take over from here. No need to burn down the flat today. Maybe another day. Try again soon,” returned Harry playfully, reaching over to poke Louis in the side before relocating the pizza to the oven.

_Hold the fuck up_ , Harry just said he would be interested in having Louis over again. Was he serious? Or, was it just a bit of banter? Whatever it was, it didn’t truly matter. Not after the grand reveal anyways.

“I’ll be waiting for that opportunity; decimating kitchens is my specialty,” stammered Louis, fighting the blush rising up his neck. “And, while you--Umm--do your kitchen business, would you like me to set the table or something? Just because I’m a culinary wreck, doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

Instead of replying to Louis’ question, Harry simply grabbed his bicep and led him into an adjoining room, seemingly a dining room of sorts. Similar to the rest of the flat, the gentle teal walls were adorned with an assortment of framed photographs. However, the primary difference in design lay with the furniture. The perimeter of the room was barren of furnishings; a single table in the center of the room served as the focus of all the attention. In the center of the table, the cursed lilies--the ones he gave to Harry--were placed in a sleek, elegant vase. Covered in a silken tablecloth, the circular dining table was framed by two high-backed chairs; in front of each cushioned chair was a name placard. As Louis approached the table, his jaw dropped open in disbelief at the _outrageous_ names written on the placards.

One read ‘Harry Styles the Curly Pineapple Chef’. The other read ‘Louis Tomlinson the Fit Lad with the Cheekbones’.  

Louis was frozen in time and space. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t seem to drag his attention away from the placards. Had Harry written these himself? If he had, it was absolutely endearing; each of their respective names was quite hilarious. And, furthermore, it didn’t hurt that Louis’ was highly complimentary.

Answering the unspoken question, Harry soon noticed the source of his attention--the sickening (adorable) placards--and raced to banish them from the table. “Umm… I have absolutely no clue those silly things got there. Absolutely no idea at all. Obviously, it wasn’t me. Obviously. Yep… Not me at all,” stuttered Harry unconvincingly. Thoroughly embarrassed by the placard incident, he put his palms against the wall and groaned loudly.

Hoping to alleviate the other man’s distress, Louis quickly strode over to join Harry beside the wall. He gently rubbed comforting circles into Harry’s back, and, in response, the taller man leaned back into the touch. “Love, even if--just if--you were the one to write those names, I wouldn’t have minded. Not the slightest. Actually, I found them to be rather endearing. But, regardless, I think you’re pretty wonderful, Harry Styles the Curly Pineapple Chef,” reassured Louis with a tender smile.

“Lou, I, uh, I’ve gotta be honest. It--Umm--was me. With the placards. Earlier, while I was setting the table, I was messing about and--boom--these silly little things were born,” replied Harry shyly. “But, just thank you, Louis Tomlinson the Fit Lad with the Cheekbones.” Turning away from the wall, he took a step toward Louis and embraced him in a tight hug.

The close embrace rendered him quite breathless, partially from the squeezing of his ribs and partially from the proximity to Harry. If this were anyone else, besides his family, he would have already protested violently to such treatment. However, hugs with Harry were special. Indescribable. Every point of contact between their bodies lit his nerves on fire. Never before had a hug felt so significant yet natural. He just wanted to hold on forever. Never letting go. Never telling the truth. Never giving this all up.

_Beeeeeep. Beeeeeep._

The sudden beeping of an alarm startled the couple, causing them to jump apart and bump heads. Clutching his forehead, Louis frantically searched for the source of the shrill sound. When he glanced up, Harry was in a similar position; however, he was staring purposefully towards the door connected to the kitchen.

“Ooohhh! Sorry, that's the oven timer. Our pizza is all done!” Harry exclaimed excitedly. “Just wait in one of the seats; I'll be right back with our pizza.”

As Harry dashed to the kitchen to retrieve the _dreaded_ pizza, Louis ambled over to the table and collapsed into one of the luxurious chairs. Throwing his head back in frustration, he stifled a loud groan with his hand. The pizza was en route. More like, Louis was en route to disaster. Once the pizza arrived, he would have to admit the truth and, most likely, leave the flat. But, it was so much more than the physical action of leaving the flat, he would also be leaving his _heart_ behind.

Listening carefully to the sound of Harry’s footsteps, Louis could detect his imminent arrival in the dining room. The pizza was here. And, so were the nerves rapidly fluttering through his insides.

Fear. Worry. Hope. Love. Only time would be able to reveal the winning emotion. Time, as in right now.

 

~~

 

“Lou! Guess what I brought? It’s the pizza. And, well, it looks amazing. Just like its decorator,” declared Harry, smiling gently at Louis’ seated figure. Even though the pizza was presently concealed by a domed lid, he was still greatly flattered by Harry’s comparison. Honestly, he was

Why was this so hard? Harry was so sweet, absolutely wonderful, but every word that he spoke made it that much harder to confess the truth. What could he say? Louis was a selfish man; he just wanted to preserve this little slice of heaven--more like pizza--that had fallen into his life.

But, he wouldn’t get to keep this angelic man. At least, not after this admission. He wouldn’t get to bask in the warmth of Harry’s smile. He wouldn’t get to dance to _Grease_ alongside Harry. He wouldn’t get to hear Harry’s ridiculous (amazing) puns. He wouldn’t get Harry. And, while Harry strolled towards the table, Louis couldn’t stop musing over this thought.

Right now, if his life was a movie, there would be a dramatic, suspenseful song playing over Harry’s walk to the table. But, his life was not a movie. So, the room was deathly silent; the only sound provided by Harry’s footfalls against the floor. The tension was palpable--at least to Louis, who was currently gazing at Harry and the pizza with a mix of tenderness and horror.

Coughing gently to disrupt the quiet atmosphere, Harry delicately placed the pizza tray on the table and removed the silver lid. “Voila! The wonderful, extra pineapple pizza has arrived. Prepare to be wowed!” cried Harry with a massive grin, pointing at the pizza.

_Shit_ . The pizza was really, truly here. The time for the confession was now. Right now. _Fuck._

Clenching his hands fiercely onto his thighs, Louis tried to stop the rapid shaking and sweating of his hands. But, there was nothing he could do to halt his racing heart beat. He was almost positive that if Harry were to listen closely, he might be able to detect the pounding of Louis’ nervous heart.

_Okay, Tommo, let’s do this_. He was going to do it. He was going to confess. Come clean about his terrible, no good, absolutely horrifying lie.

“So--Umm--I have to tell you something kinda--erm--bad,” revealed Louis, mindlessly tapping his fingers against the armrest of the chair. “You might--ahh--want to sit down for this one.”

“Hey, what’s wrong? I’m sure everything will be positively fine,” replied Harry, cautiously perching on the chair opposite to Louis.

“Umm--Well, I need to--fuck--confess something,” continued Louis. “Just--just don’t make fun of me. Hate me. Kick me out. Just please. Please don’t laugh at me.”

Harry stared at Louis with an expression of confusion and shock. “Louis, I could never. I would never. I promise whatever you are about to reveal will not impact my feelings for you. Not in the slightest.”

“There’s a possibility that I may have been--erm--lying to you about something that is somewhat--really--important. On the first day we met, I--Umm--might have lied to you. Like, you know how I declared my love for pineapple pizza? Well, it--it was a--erm--lie. A big fat lie. Actually, I really, really hate pineapple. Not--not pineapple itself, but on pizza? Hell no. So, yeah, I’m--I’m really fucking sorry for lying to you. I--Umm--was just really nervous, and I kinda just wanted you to like--like me. So, all of the--yeah--pineapple pizza wasn’t even mine. It was for my flatmates. But, I actually did eat the--Umm--cheese side. And, I didn’t lie about the pizza being absolutely amazing. I promise. So, yeah, I’m just really sincerely sorry about all of this lying and deceiving. I also realize that this apology is probably proper shit, but I just wanted you to know the--the truth.”

Finished with his confession and apology, he dropped his head into his hands to conceal the hint of moisture prickling at the corners of his eyes. He’d already humiliated himself. Lost any chance with Harry. So, everything was going to absolute _shit_.

Forgiveness was not in the future. A pardon was not possible. Louis had continually searched Harry’s face for any visible--even the smallest, most microscopic--sign of potential forgiveness during the entirety of his speech. But, through every heart-wrenching line, Harry’s face remained emotionless and unreadable. That would not--could not--be a good sign. Sometimes, no news was good news, but that wasn’t the situation now, right?

Breaking through his distressing thoughts, Louis felt a large hand shaking--more like gently moving--his shoulder. Cautiously, he pried his hands away from his face and dared to glance upwards. It was Harry, but why? Was Harry just trying to get him to move? Oh, of course, that was it. Harry probably wanted him to leave the flat--and his life--forever.

Finally, registering the words that Harry was hollering, he tried to quickly clear his head in order to comply with whatever the other man asked. Even if it was personally and emotionally challenging. Louis was the one who decided to lie, so he was in _no_ position to argue. In fact, he counted himself quite lucky to have already gotten the opportunity to spend a few hours in Harry’s presence.

Except, Harry wasn’t saying anything about leaving, simply calling Louis’ name.

Confusion. Louis was confused. _Very_ confused.

“Lou, babe! Can you hear me?” questioned Harry, with a half-smile on his face. Shocked by his actions and lack of displeasure, Louis couldn’t even react. “Just stay here for a minute, I’m going to run to the kitchen. When everything’s ready, I’ll call for you.”

Louis remained frozen in a stupor as the curly haired man rushed towards him and pressed a delicate kiss to his forehead. Then, after flashing another award-winning smile, he snatched the pizza tray from the table and dashed to the kitchen.

Seated alone at the circular table, Louis’ heart was overwhelmed by a mixture of fluttering hope and sinking dread. On one hand, Harry didn’t appear particularly disappointed or infuriated, but on the other hand, Harry had made no direct acknowledgement of his grand reveal. Though he tried to remain hopeful about the outcome of the date, he didn’t dare set any expectations, for even the slightest rejection would tear into his heart.

Eventually, after an undetermined period of time--it could have been five minutes, or it could have been twenty--Louis detected the glorious smell of food, the smell of perfectly crafted pizza, wafting into the dining room. The scent attacked his senses, causing his mouth to water and his stomach to growl.

Harry’s course of action was now obvious. Harry probably been utterly horrified by Louis’ _secret_ and was now composing a plan to politely kick him out. Of course, he was doing that. Harry was, well, Harry. And, Harry was infinitely polite and sweet and hated to be rude (unless absolutely warranted). So, Harry was going to prepare a wonderful dinner and then bid Louis goodbye. Forever.

“Lou! If you’re ready, come on in!” yelled Harry, presumably from the kitchen.

Momentarily, Louis wondered if he could simply ignore Harry’s summoning. Just continue to hide out in this chair. Never face the world--or Harry--again. But, sadly, none of this was possible. He might as well get it over with, right?

With a newfound sense of resignation, he released his death grip on the arms of the chair and pushed himself away from this small pocket of safety. Carefully, he stretched out his legs, wincing slightly as his muscles twinged from the abrupt movement after a prolonged period of tensed sitting. He hesitated briefly at the entrance to the hallway, eyes lingering on the adorable, yet long forgotten name placards. Louis sighed deeply. No use dragging out the inevitable. Regardless of the time or place, a rejection by Harry would sting like a physical wound. So, he steeled himself for the imminent disappointment and stepped into the hallway. 

In the kitchen, Louis was faced with the mouth-watering scent of freshly cooked, honest to God pizza. Harry, unaware of his arrival, was cheerfully bustling around and humming the lyrics to the song playing through the speakers.

So, Louis’ prediction was coming true. This was how Harry was going to go about it. Harry would serve him a nice meal, act as if everything were absolutely normal, ignore the pineapple bombshell, send him away with some polite excuse, and then never speak to him ever again. 

Jerking himself away from such thoughts, he glanced towards the island countertop where there were two place settings in front of the dreaded silver tray. Could it be? Was the pineapple pizza back to haunt and torture Louis? And, _oh my goodness_ , Harry had beckoned him into the kitchen to mock his dislike of pineapple. Except, Harry’s current behavior didn’t seem even slightly vengeful. Maybe, there was another variety of pizza underneath the tray. Yes, of course! That had to be it.

At last aware of Louis’ presence, Harry spun around to face him, looking extremely adorable and pure--not at all like a heartbreaker. “Hiya, Lou! Take a seat! I made something sorta special for you,” declared Harry, smiling almost nervously. Why in tarnation would _Harry_ be nervous? It wasn’t like he was the one about to go face to face with rejection. Honestly, Harry was such a gentle and wonderful soul that it probably pained him to be impolite to others. It had nothing to do with Louis. Of course not. He was just another forgettable, pineapple-hating face.

“Ummm… Hey, love! What--what is this?” asked Louis incredulously. Though he wasn’t particularly eager to _know_ , the question just seemed to spill from his mouth, as if his mouth had a mind of its own. Also, he couldn’t get control over the constant terms of endearment; around Harry, they just poured out.

Instead of replying instantly, Harry just let out an irritating (adorable) chuckle. “It’s dinner, silly. For you.”

Louis was completely dumbfounded. Harry’s behavior gave no indication of a future dismissal or anything even remotely related to the reveal of the pineapple lie. He was simply bopping through the kitchen, adjusting last minute details of the plates and utensils. Sometimes, people were just so bloody _confusing_. There was no indicator of what might possibly happen next.

“Come on, then,” teased Harry, gesturing towards the shimmering pizza tray. “The food, specially prepared by yours truly, awaits us.”

Slowly nodding, Louis followed Harry’s outstretched arm and quickly arrived in front of the countertop laden with the pizza and the place settings. He carefully sat down atop one of the barstools and awaited further instruction from Harry. To call this brief wait nerve-wracking was a severe understatement. In order to halt the constant shaking and fidgeting of his hands, he had to shove them underneath his legs. While Louis attempted--and failed--to compose himself, Harry had dropped into the neighboring seat.

Leaning forward slightly, Harry smoothly removed the lid of the tray to reveal the actual pizza. “Ta-da! Here’s the new and improved pizza!” he announced with a cheeky smile and a grand flourish of his hands.

_What the ever-loving fuck?_ The pizza was… entirely devoid of pineapple. Not a single pineapple in sight. It was an entirely cheese pizza. Just cheese. Everywhere.

“Ummmm… Don’t get me wrong, but what on earth happened to the pineapples?” Louis questioned hesitantly.

Harry blushed bright red and stared down at his lap. “Well, you--ermm--mentioned that pineapple wasn’t your--your favorite, so I might have taken it all off? And, well, possibly replaced it with--with extra cheese? Actually, yeah, I definitely did all of that. And, you said that--Ummm--you liked the cheese pizza, so I wanted you to enjoy the meal as well. There’s no need to force the pineapple upon you. And, I--I hope you like the pizza, I guess?”

_Hold up_ , Harry wasn’t mad? What was going on? Instead of reprimanding his actions, the curly haired man simply accepted his dislike of pineapple and accommodated it. There were truly no words to describe how insanely wonderful Harry was, in every situation. He brushed aside his own strong preference towards pineapple, so that Louis wouldn’t have to suffer through the entirety of dinner.

“Love, you did this for me? But--but what about the pineapple? PIneapple is your favorite.”

“Who cares about the pineapple? Lou, I just want you to have a nice time. It doesn’t truly matter what we eat. Honestly, I like you, for you. Not for the kind of pizza that you prefer. You know that, right?”

“Ermm… Well,” sputtered Louis. “I might have been slightly--”

Spinning around quickly on his seat, Harry reached out to grab Louis’ hands in his larger ones. With a fond expression, he pulled Louis impossibly closer to his own body, pressing their knees together. “Stop it right there. You don’t get it, Lou. Obviously, I’m going to have to spell it out for you. I don’t care about the pizza or the pineapple. I only care about you. And, well, you are absolutely marvelous and--Umm--really fucking gorgeous. Truly, your dislike of pineapple doesn’t matter in the slightest, okay?” comforted Harry, smiling kindly at Louis.

“But--but I lied to you,” Louis mumbled gloomily.

“Yes, you did lie. I cannot deny that. But, that lie concerned a trivial fact; it wasn’t like you killed somebody. And, really, I thought it was quite sweet that you were willing to go to such an effort. However, that doesn’t mean I care if you enjoy pineapple on pizza. Differences are totally okay; everyone is unique. And, Lou, you are perfect to me.”

Louis was speechless--an extremely rare occurrence. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It had to be a dream. There was _no way_ Harry would accept his dislike of pineapple _and_ forgive his massive lie. Pinching his leg harshly, he came to the realization that this incredible turn of events was a part of reality. What had he ever done to deserve someone like Harry?

After finally organizing and processing the events of the last couple minutes, Louis glanced up at Harry’s face. Somehow, they were sitting much closer together than he remembered, less than foot of space separated their faces. The proximity took Louis’ breath away as he gazed into Harry’s emerald doe eyes. With a gentle smile, Harry reached upwards to frame Louis’ face between his hands, causing a soft gasp to fall from the shorter man’s lips. As Harry soothingly rubbed circles into his cheekbone, Louis continued to stare at him with a mixture of adoration and wonder. Then, without further warning, Harry closed his eyes, leaned forwards, and tenderly brushed their lips together.

Unlike the movies, this kiss was not an explosion of fireworks behind his eyelids. However, it wasn’t any less wonderful. It felt natural, as if their mouths were two halves of a whole. Two hearts in one home. Two puzzle pieces waiting to reunite. This was _it_. The climax of a romance movie. The romance movie that had somehow become Louis’ life, and he had absolutely no complaints at all.

Louis was immediately lost in the warmth and comfort provided by Harry’s lips; he hesitantly explored the workings of Harry’s mouth as they pressed even closer together. Louis delicately placed a palm atop one of Harry’s hands and in return, felt Harry’s other hand snake into his hair. Carefully tugging Louis’ head upward, Harry deepened the angle of the kiss, receiving a brief hum from Louis in response.

As they kissed, time felt simultaneously fleeting, yet limitless. Distracted by the hypnotic movements of Harry’s mouth against his own, Louis felt frozen in time and space. He wished that this moment--this kiss--could be infinite.

However, his lungs had another plan. So, in order to regain vital oxygen, their heated kisses soon transformed into brief pecks, separated by silly giggles. They detached from one another only momentarily to share a gentle smile, before leaning their foreheads together, slightly out of breath. Enclosed in their own private cocoon of serenity, Louis ran his fingers through Harry’s unruly curls while Harry looped his arms around Louis’ neck, bringing them together once again, this time in a hug. Though the position was slightly uncomfortable while sitting atop adjacent chairs, Louis was perfectly content to snuggle against Harry’s broad chest. He stifled a massive grin, revealing it only to Harry’s shirt, as the taller man continued to press light kissed into his feathery hair.

Eventually, the peaceful moment was interrupted by the loud rumbling of Louis’ stomach.

“So, it sounds like somebody is awful eager for the pizza,” teased Harry, without any real heat behind the accusation.

“Well, it’s not my fault that you’re an amazing chef,” returned Louis, beaming widely at Harry.

“And, just for that excellent statement, you get to sample the first slice of pizza. In all honesty, I truly hope you enjoy it, Lou,” said Harry, carefully scooping a small pizza slice onto Louis’ plate.

“Oi oi, how dare you give me the tiniest slice of pizza? You better not keep this up, Curly, or there’ll be no more kisses for you,” threatened Louis, as a fond grin started to overtake his faux pout.

“We absolutely cannot have that. Completely unacceptable,” countered Harry, attempting to appear cross, but instead seeming endeared by his date’s antics. “I guess I’ll just have to give you a different slice.”

True to his word, Harry swapped plates with Louis and awarded him the largest possible slice. And, in exchange for the slice, Harry received a massive smile, complete with crinkles by Louis’ eyes. “Thanks, love,” hummed Louis, leaning forward to brush his lips across Harry’s cheek. “You’re the absolute bestest.”

The compliment was definitely a superb decision, if not for the truth behind it, then most assuredly for Harry’s soft smile. Right here, sitting before Harry’s gently glowing smile, this was heaven. A true paradise. He never wanted this dream to end. The first date wasn’t even completed, but Louis was positive that he wanted to be right here forever. Forever. Forever was a long time, yet it still wouldn’t be long enough. At least, not for him.

“You know what, Lou? That’s you. You’re the bestest. In fact, if you were a fruit, you’d be one fine-apple!” gushed Harry, trying--and failing--to contain his broad smile and resounding chuckles.

Honestly, Louis _should_ be embarrassed by such a cheesy, flirtatious line; however, it just brought a smile to his face. In fact, basically anything related to Harry caused him to burst into a grin. The other man’s positivity and kindness was truly infectious; every aspect of him was completely endearing.

“Curly, you are such a pun-master. I have been thoroughly wooed by your immense poetic skills and impressive culinary talents,” acknowledged Louis, linking hands with Harry, who blushed at the constant showering of compliments.

“Even though I might be the culinary master around these parts, you are the true wonder here, Lou. My fine-apple!,” exclaimed Harry, dragging Louis--very willingly--into another kiss. Even though Harry could not seem to stop giggling over his creative pun, the kiss was magical. As they drew apart, Louis smiled into Harry’s lips; he was content to be the other man’s fine-apple. Forever. After all, the pizzeria owner had already stolen a piece--more like a pizza--of his heart. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Also a massive thank to everyone who helped me throughout the writing process! This was my first fic, and it was truly a wonderful experience. And, although it's definitely cheesy, I couldn't have done it without all of you :)) If you liked this fluffy lil fic, I would love to see your feedback or just some kudos! You can catch me on tumblr as @cominbacktolou <3


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